#she was thinking bout a little white tank top sitting right there in the middle by her

[cascowriteswords]

no one bit on the Mud on the Tires fic but... what about What Was I Thinking by Dierks Bentley except it’s a 9k clexa one shot? still no? it’s ok i get it. warm weather getting me in my early 2000s country music feels is not as relatable as i thought it would be. 

#clexa one shot #clarke is a wild child #lexa's dad peppers clarke's tail gate #she knew what she was feeling but what was she thinking #she was thinking bout a little white tank top sitting right there in the middle by her #thinking bout a long kiss man just gotta get going where the night might lead #coming to ao3 in a city near you

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Anklets and Necklaces

Inspired by this tweet.

@5-secondsofcolor I’m not sorry.

Female Reader insert. NSFW Content (18+). My smut writing is hella rusty. So I do apologize, whoops.

_______________

Calum plays at the anklet, spinning it around and around her joint as her legs are crossed and resting in his lap. The gold jewellry is hardly ever taken off since he gave it to her. In return, she gifted him a chain with a tiny pendant with her initial etched into the back of it. The front of it is an arrowhead. He wears it so often now, that when it’s off, he feels a little incomplete. It’s an easy gesture to carry her everywhere with him.

“Okay we gotta decide what to eat for lunch like now or I’m going to get hangry,” she states.

Calum glances up from his phone, to see her still scrolling on hers. “Oh no. Not hangry,” he teases. But he knows she means it. Her warnings have about a thirty minute window, just enough for a delivery if they get something simple. Or if they want something more complicated, they need to find a snack now while the main course is cooking. “What do you want? Thai? Mexican?”

“Would you hate me if I said I really just wanted nuggets from McDonalds?”

The pout on her lips makes him laugh, “No, I could never. Usual then?”

“Yes, please.”

Stretching across the length of her, Calum pushes his lips together, trying to ask for a kiss. She laughs in return and squeezes his cheeks. “Be lucky you’re cute,” she states before lifting up slightly to meet his lips. “And squishy.”

“Ain’t nothing on me squishy,” he huffs, straightening back up to put her order into the app.

She sets her phone down on her stomach, gazing up over the sharp line of his jaw that his plump cheeks sit atop. And while it’d be easy to return with a poke and a verbal jab about his cheeks, she just watches him. His fingers deftly work over the screen. The white tank sits as a stark contrast to the depth and glow of his skin. “I think all the right things on you are squishy.”

“Yeah, what are those?”

“Your cheeks. And as much as you and your trainer kick your ass, I know happy weight when I see it.”

Calum grins, a chuckle shaking through him as he sets his phone down on the arm of the couch--the order completed on his end. He pinches at her thighs. “Take that back.”

She shakes her head. “No, I don’t think I will. I like it--just like I like my cookies. Hard on the edges gooey in the middle.”

Standing for just a moment to let her legs fall onto the couch, Calum kneels onto the cushion, hovering above her. Her eyes glitter just a little as she talks and the soft easy smile on her face lets him know that it’s all out of love--what’s she’s saying. The pads of his fingers run along the side of her thigh. “Be lucky I love you.”

“I am already lucky, so say what you gotta say. Roast me, my love. It’s not like we don’t do that anyways.”

And truth be told, Calum had no response. Not when he looks at her, because God all he sees is the person that’s been with him on his bad mental days. She’s been there when Calum was sure there was no lower low or higher high. And what do you say to that person that’s been there, seen all of you that there is to see? With a gentle and chaste kiss, Calum settles for silence.

“Cat got your tongue now, huh?”

This--this Calum can respond too. It’s all too easy. “I know what else my tongue can have.”

“I know something your tongue can have too.”

“Really now?” Calum asks, dragging his fingers over the top of her thigh and tracing the line of her lounge shorts. “Food will be here in fifteen minutes though. So that’s up to you.”

“Not nearly enough time to savor it. Besides,” she starts and takes a pause. Her lips pull into a side smile and Calum knows what that means. One brow quirks in anticipation and Calum watches her. The silence settles for a little too long.

“Besides what?” he prompts again.

“Besides, I need the mail to be delivered first.”

“What did you buy?”

“You’ll see later. I promise. It’s really not even supposed to be used for lingerie. But I’ve wanted these for a long time and I specifically have a set I’m trying to complete.”

There’s the black mesh set that she’s slowly been building out. The main piece came in weeks ago, at this point it might even be months ago that that came in. He was privy to it then and gave it the christening that it deserved. But there wasn’t any other lingerie set that needed expansion. Not at least to his recalling. “Which one is it?”

“I’m not saying.”

“Oh please,” he whines, dropping his head into her neck. His lips softly and slowly seal kisses into her warm skin.

“No, Calum. I’ve been waiting on this package for weeks. It got held up in customs and I-” she sighs at his lips sucking at her skin. Not hard enough to cause a bruise, but just enough to make her spine tingle. “You’re going to have to do better than that.”

Calum pushes up, with a huff, sitting back down on the opposite end of the couch. “This is killing me, you know?”

“Well, you ain’t dead yet. So I think you can tough it out for a little bit longer.”

“Begrudgingly--I want you to know that.”

She sits up, swinging her feet to the floor. “Your sacrifice will be duly noted. The mail will be here before you know it.” The couch releases her weight and Calum watches her pad into the kitchen. “Do you want anything?” she calls.

“I’m good,” he returns, knowing that he will be counting down the seconds until the mail comes. She returns with a glass of water, sitting back down on the couch, but bringing her feet up underneath her as she motions to the TV. “You watching that?”

Calum answers with a shrug. He wasn’t anymore. He originally turned it on mostly for the weather and some news. He found himself bored and flipping through channels before settling on the sports channel while he took care of Duke in the morning. Noise to fill the space since his brain needed the distraction. He hadn’t slept all that great the last few nights, decent sleep. The closer and closer the band got to putting out music the more his nerves kicked in--sometimes they were sneaky. The nerves come up faster than Calum had anticipated. And right now, they won the first round. But Calum was working hard to combat them so he could get about his daily life.

“Go crazy,” he finally verbally responds. And she picks up the remote, changing channels too fast for Calum to even understand how you could process what was on before decking it was a no. She eventually settles for HGTV--not quite caring what show was on. 

The first knock that comes to the door is the food that Calum ordered for the two of them. He answers it, popping up in the hopes it’s the mail. When it’s not, he sighs just a little but places the bag down onto the coffee table. “Your nugs, my queen,” he teases.

“Thank you, my good sir,” she returns with a grin, opening before divvying out what is for who. “You wouldn’t have happened to shot up like a bat outta hell because you wanted that to be the mail?”

Calum feels the heat in his cheeks, but bumps her shoulder gently. “No, why would I ever want that?”

“Oh I don’t know,” she scoffs in return, dunking a nugget into the sweet and sour sauce. They share a soft bout of laughter before turning their gaze back to the TV. Duke’s paws click as he ventures into the kitchen for a drink of water from his bowl. The lapping and splash of his tongue echoing just slightly as the screen goes dark between the show and the commercial break.

Calum lifts his gaze, taking in the soft angle of her jaw. She curls up around the carton of fries, eyes glued to the screen. Does she even have the slightest clue what she does to him? It’s not even the involved things like dressing up for him, or comforting him. It’s just her, when she’s munching on fries. Or when she sleepily walks behind Duke in the mornings. It’s when she hums as she cooks. It’s the dancing she does when she’s cleaning. It’s the pouts when she messes up on something and her brow furrows in as the determination settles onto her face.

It’s when she fucked up a birthday cake for him once--not greasing the sides of the pan enough and then adding a tad too much milk--called him crying about it and then in a minute flat resolved to make him brownies instead. Because she said she’d be damned if she didn’t make him something sweet to nibble on or pass along to the guys. And Calum’s not even that much of a sweets guy, which she knew, so she only settled on giving him half the batch she made. She, of course, saved the other half for her and her friends.

And it’s just the moments that she’s not even trying that makes Calum melt. Like when she paints her nails, she offers to do his first. Or when she lays down next to Duke, and in their shared silence, they seem to communicate everything with each other.

“I love you,” he states.

She turns, eyes widening for a second before grinning around her sip of iced tea. “I love you.” Her brows furrow just a little. “You okay? You’ve hardly touched your food.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.”

“If you didn’t want McDonalds, I could’ve done something else. Literally anything else,” she continues on almost as if she hadn’t heard him.

“It’s not the food,” he giggles. Calum reaches out to caress her cheek. “I’m okay.”

She nods. “Okay.”

“I just love you, that’s all. Wanted to share it with you.”

Her grin is soft as it lifts her lips. “Good because you’re not getting rid of me that easy.”

“I wouldn’t dare dream of getting rid of you.”

Another silence envelopes them. Calum finishes his food and takes the empty containers to the trash. Another episode starts up from the speakers and just above it, he hears the chime of his phone. “Do you want me to screen it for you?”

“Yes please!” If it’s one of the guys, they won’t mind her answering. If it’s someone important, he doesn’t want to miss the call.

“Calum’s phone,” she answers but he can already hear her feet shuffling to him in the kitchen. “Okay, Ash. I’ll keep that in mind.” Her voice comes closer and Calum shakes his hands just a little to get rid of the excess water before drying them. “No, I can’t say what it is without taking a look. Did you use the soil I recommended last time?” Another pause comes from her and when Calum turns, he finds her leaning up the kitchen counter, phone halfway pulled down but not fully away from her ear. “Yeah, I definitely think you should consider changing soils. But I can take a better look tomorrow for you. I’m going to pass along the phone now.”

She hands the phone over. “He said it was important.”

“Thank you,” Calum says in a whisper, pressing a kiss to her forehead and then placing the phone to his ear. “Yeah, Ash?”

Calum’s not even sure how long the conversation goes on. At first, it is important information that Ashton’s trying to confirm--a date and time for a meeting that they had later in the week. He says he wrote it down where he writes down all their meetings but it’s not there. And Ashton’s trying to make sure that he doesn’t miss it. So Calum shuffles to his office and verifies in his calendar the time for the meeting.

But then the conversation diverges--they start talking about everything and anything. So much so, they’re laughing. Calum doesn’t even hear the knock at the front door. But he does notice her scurrying off into the bedroom. The door closes with a soft click. Duke comes trailing after her but notices the closer door and then keeps down the hall to the office. Calum reclines back in his seat trying to get another angle at the door. But it’s closed fully.

“You okay, gramps?” Calum asks Duke.

“Oh fuck off, mate!” Ashton laughs.

“Not you, you fucking egg. Duke--I was talking to Duke.”

“Oh!” Ashton giggles. “Sorry, I thought you was trying to talk shit.”

“I don’t have to try and do that to you.”

“Oi, don’t start something bro.” The two of them laugh and Calum bends down to scratch behind Duke’s ears. “Alright, thanks for confirming that meeting. I’ll see you tomorrow in the studio?”

“Yeah--bright and early. Talk to you later.” The call ends and when Calum spins around in his desk chair, his jaw drops as she steps out from the bedroom. It’s not exactly something new--as in something that she’s never worn before. But it doesn’t mean he ever gets tired of seeing her like this.

The white bustier pushes her breasts up and almost over the cups. And he travels the look down, taking in the baby blue skirt, fishnet knee highs. And he goes back up, taking in a black strap wrapping around her thighs. She notes the lustful gaze and steps right on the line of the threshold to the door.

“So,” Calum starts, trailing his gaze down and then back up to her face. “Not the black lingerie I was anticipating.”

“No, I’m waiting for the heels I want for that lingerie to go on sale. Besides, you didn’t like the collar I liked so I’m still searching.”

“It wasn’t that I didn’t like it. It’s just too similar to one we already bought.”

“You’re right, but still.”

Calum cracks a smile at the reluctant confession. “But enough about that. This--this is a cute outfit.”

She nods, smoothing out the pleated mini skirt. “It’s less about the outfit and more about these,” she says, tapping at the thin black band.

“And those are?” Calum asks. It’s one step closer into the room and Calum think he can make out a heart shaped metal loop in the middle of it. She takes a second step closer and Calum can see clearly it’s some sort of thigh garter--leather or something related as the material. “Oh,” he breathes.

She continues slowly to approach Calum and when she’s just in arms reach, she lifts the skirt up. It goes up inch by inch and Calum’s entranced. Watching more of her thighs revealed to him. And soon it’s black panties--mesh and if Calum remembers correctly crotchless. But wrapped around her waist is another band of leather. Two pieces hook to another metal hoop right on her hip bones and then one trip connects the top piece to the bottom.

“A harness garter belt--what do you think?” she asks in a whisper.

Calum exhales, desire stirring in the pit of his stomach. He reaches out, wrapping his fingers around her thighs and pulling her into him. He kisses in the spaces between the leather, gingerly, lips hardly touching her skin. “I think you look beautiful,” he hums, dropping his head on his neck to look up at her.

Her eyes are still closed and Calum softly runs the tips of his fingers up her thigh, tracing the lines of the harness. With a deep exhale, she finally blinks back to reality. “Not too silly?”

His brows meet in the middle of his face. Why would she think it’s too silly? There’s nothing silly about her standing in front of him, clearly excited about her own purchase. “Angel--I’ll be damned if I ever think this is silly.”

Swinging her leg over and settling onto his lap, she grins. “Thank you, love.”

Calum holds onto her hips, rubbing his palms down to her ass. “So you said this technically isn’t lingerie?”

“No--I don’t think so. But I think they could be--a small accessory to something I already have.”

They share a kiss, much too quick for Calum’s liking so he pulls her back in for more. And her arms wind around his neck as he continues to palm her ass. Here, he doesn’t really care what it is technically or not. She looks absolutely amazing. “I like it. In fact,” Calum starts, moving to grip her thighs before housing them both up and then plopping her down on the desk. “I really like them.”

Calum stands between her legs, nose brushing and bumping against hers. Here, she can feel her core aching as Calum’s fingers trail closer and closer to her heat. It’s feather light--his touch, but it makes her feel electric all the same. “Cal,” she hums.

“Yes baby?”

There’s nothing that comes out of her mouth but a small huff, a rushed and harsh exhale at the feeling of his fingers dancing across her skin. He grins pulling back just a little to see the way her face goes slack, almost as if she’s at peace with him between her legs.

“Was there something you wanted to say, darlin’?” Calum tries again, taking just a half step back away from her.

With her eyes still closed, she smiles. “I want to know,” she starts, exhaling softly to counter the thud of her heart in her chest, “if you’d so kindly want to make love to me?”

Calum can’t help his own small tuft of laughter. “Darlin’, I’d do so happily.” They don’t always wind up in bed like this--but it’s nice, to be comfortable even to be this forward with this and this open.

Calum takes her hand as she hops down from the desk. “Give me a twirl,” he asks. She obliges, turning in a circle for Calum, punctuating the back view by lifting her skirt up. “Silly girl,” Calum laughs, giving a firm but playful tap to her ass.

Facing Calum again, she wraps her arms around his torso. “But you love it.”

“I do. I love you.”

They share another kiss and she slowly walks backwards out of the room. They get lost in each other--Calum in the way she fits against him and her in the way Calum holds her, palms spanning across her back and tight enough that she wonders if he thinks she’s going to disappear but gently enough at the same time that she’d love nothing more than staying here forever in his hold.

Calum finds the zipper to the top and slowly drags it down. The material exhales, slowly falling away from her body and when it falls to the floor, he kisses her neck, down to the swell of her breast. Her moans are soft, just above a hum that makes just enough noise for him to hear. And it goes right to his gut.

Here there's very little need for words. When Calum gives, she takes happily. But when she tugs at his hair, Calum knows to step back, lets her give something to him. Her kisses are soft against his skin, but make him feel like it’s being set on fire. One that he’d happily stay in, let the blaze consume every inch of him, if it meant that she was always the one to take him.

His shirt goes to join hers. Her mouth teases his nipples as she descends further down on him. Calum thinks he sighs, all he can do is just shut his eyes and let go into the feeling of her teasing the cut of his hips beneath the sweatpants. She’s always like this, teasing him. At first, it used to annoy him. But now he loves it, loves just how close she’s willing to push him to the edge, push his buttons but always delivering at the end of it.

Her meticulous work, to watch him jump at every scratch of her nails and nip of her teeth, is enjoyable. But Calum blinks open his eyes to cup her jaw, which stops her. When her gaze lifts, Calum motions for her to stand. “Yes?” she grins standing to her full height.

Calum presses their foreheads together. “I missed you.”

“Well how dare I keep a man like you waiting?” With a slow kiss, tongues just barely dancing, Calum walks the two of them to the bed. The back of her knees hit the edge of it and she buckles just a little. Calum catches her from falling. “Turn around,” he whispers into her ear, “please.”

The instruction is obeyed and she spins to face the bed. Calum finds the zipper to the powder blue skirt and almost doesn’t want to take it off her. In the end, he does-- Calum lets the skirt fall onto a pool at their feet. Without even prompting she falls to her hands, ass grinding against his hips. He traces her spine with the pads of his fingers, following all the way down, over the curve of her ass and down to the opening in the panties. His fingers gather a bit of her arousal.

“Oh,” he groans. “So wet for me,” he hums with approval.

“Always for you,” she sighs. Calum teases her clit--a featherlight touch as he dances over her core. She lets herself fall a little bit more into the mattress--another moan leaving her lips when Calum takes one finger down from her clit to teasing her entrance.

Calum pulls away, bring his wet fingers to his lips and sucking them clean. “Taste just like heaven,” he hums. He gingerly guides her back to standing and uses her hips to get her to face him again.

More kisses are shared before they fall onto the mattress. Calum takes hold of one of the straps around her thigh and tugs her down, closer to him and she laughs. It gets caught off and morphed into a moan as Calum’s tongue licks a wide stripe up her. He’s careful of the mesh material of her panties, but knows that carefulness won’t last long. Not when her arousal coats his tongue. Not when her nails scratch over the muscles of his shoulders or tangle into the curls on his head.

She melts under the work of his mouth. The mattress merely becoming the vessel to hold the mess she’s bound to make and become. The room echoes the moans and slurps. Fingers gripping at the sheet, she chants Calum’s name. His tongue working magic over her core and just when she thinks she couldn’t possibly handle anything more, she notices the stretch at the addition of his fingers.

“Fuck,” she whines, lifiting one leg and he slips in even deeper, curling his fingers and hitting just the right spot.

Calum hungers for her pleasure--the high-pitched whine and groan as she releases. Some days it’s just the sound he needs to ground him. She gives short and breathless huffs, and quivers underneath him. “Gonna be a good girl?” Calum asks, fingers still pumping at her.

“Yes, oh yes, I will.”

“Gonna cum for me?”

“I want to, yes I’ll come for you. Make me your good girl.” Her voice sounds far away, as if she’s not fully cognizant of what she’s saying. Not quite babbling, but definitely talking so fast words bump into each other and slur together.

Calum grins, sucking at her clit again and she groans, head throwing back against the pillows. Her toes are curling--her whole body growing warmer with the passing second. The heat coils in her lower gut and she’s pleading. Though, she’s not sure who she is really meaning to plead to, but she wants to cum so badly.

Then it finally happens, one moment she’s sure she’s nearly in tears and the next, the coil snaps. She squeezes, hips raising off the bed and Calum continues to ride out her orgasm, gently pressing her back down into the bed. She hisses and starts to push at his shoulders, the signal that it’s too much. So Calum places one last kiss to her clit before pulling away from her glistening core.

Beneath him, eyes fluttering close, she looks angelic. Calum holds himself up above her and just watches the way she tries to collect her breath. “You’re beautiful, you know?” he whispers, not wanting to shatter the silence.

“No kidding?” she teases, winding her arms around his neck. The necklace dangles just a little in her face and she takes one hand to trace the chain. Hooking her fingers into it, she tugs Calum down to her. The taste of her arousal on Calum’s tongue makes her head spin. Calum caresses her side and stomach as the kiss deepens. Here is all they need--the soft and deep kisses, the moans that they swallow from each other.

Her hands leave from around his neck and begin to push down his sweatpants and underwear. And he lets her, even pulls back to kneel on his knees as she sits up. Their kiss hardly breaks and she’s quick to tug the cotton material down, hands wrapping around his length.

He groans at the squeeze--nothing too hard just enough pressure to make his whole body ignite. Her hand pumps him, once, then twice slowly and teasing him. “Baby,” he sighs, relishing the feeling of her hands working over him. The stay like that only for a minute or two before Calum pauses her to step down and full disrobe.

When he climbs back onto the bed, he crawls over her. “Welcome back, handsome,” she greets.

“Oh, it’s so good to be back,” he returns, grinning.

She runs her fingers over the tattoos decorating his chest, out of habit, out of something to ground her for a moment. There’s no way he’s real and it shouldn’t ever shock her like this. But sometimes it sneaks up on her and the realization of how madly in love she is with his man hits her all over again.

“What are you thinking about?” Calum asks.

“How much I love you,” she answers softly.

“I love you too,” he returns, bending down to kiss her. It’s soft and sweet--the kiss. For a moment, they just inhale the breaths of the other. It’s a tender moment, one that neither one wants to interrupt, so they let it linger, smiling at each other. She stretches up to kiss him, one hand trailing between their bodies and Calum catches the hint all too quickly when she traces along his length.

“I haven’t forgotten, love,” he exhales in a breathy laugh. “Trust me, I could never forget.” Once lined up, Calum’s slow to sink into her. One, he wants to drag this out, enjoy every inch of him that she grips of him. And two, because he wants to make sure that even in the lull that she’s ready to take him.

Her head falls back, hair pushing into the pillow and neck exposing itself to him. A tempting sight but Calum loses himself in the feeling of her wetness. He’s slow, pulling out just a bit before sinking further back into her. Her sighs and words of encouragement are soft from beneath him but they fuel him.

The pace quickens and both of them groan at the ecstasy. Out of reflex, she lifts one leg to readjust her hip flexor and Calum brings it up, resting her ankle on his shoulder. He kisses over the joint and the anklet, savoring just how much of her he can feel like this.

The chain dangles in her face, brushing in the valley of her breast and she revels in the feeling of Calum reaching the full depths of her body. She digs her nails into his flesh, more curses falling from her lip. But some of them get lost in the groans that win out. “God,” she huffs. “You’re everywhere.” And though it’s a bit of strain to get the words out because Calum’s pace is relentless as he snaps his hips into hers, she pushes the words out.

“You always take me so well,” he praises, watching the way her face contorts. “Oh, so soon, love? You’re going to cum again for me so fucking soon, like a good girl.”

Her whine slips out first but she nods, feeling the coil tightening yet again in her lower abdomen. Her body is hot, and she can already feel the prickle of sweat on her forehead. “Please, baby, please,” she begs.

“As you wish,” he hums, his own orgasm approaching faster than he anticipated. His body humming as the warmth spreads. The bed rocks just a little, hitting the wall and the sounds echo around them as they sigh and moan to each other. But the only thing that really matters to them, is each other.

“Fuck, baby,” he whispers, voice straining as she orgasms. No noise comes from her, but her mouth opens like if she had the breath she’d definitely be screaming his name. This time the quakes last longer, her whole body shaking. “You’re okay, you’re okay,” he hums, bumping his nose against her jaw, still riding through her orgasm.

“Shit, oh my god,” she shudders, wrapping her arms around his neck.

There’s a slight hiss when Calum moves again, and he kisses over her face, starting with her nose and then moving to her cheeks. Another quake takes her and Calum, not anticipating it, groans-- his orgasm now right on the edge. It won’t be much longer, but she nibbles at his earlobe. “Thank you,” she whispers. “Made me feel so fucking good. I want you to cum in me. So fucking deep,” she hums.

And while Calum’s trying to get his own rebuttal to the tip of his tongue, she squeezes around him. “Fuck,” he yelps just a little, his body erupting with his orgasm. His body shudders and he’s so blindsided by the feeling, his slips just a little, more of his weight settling onto her than usual.

She doesn’t say anything, just hums at the feeling of him succumbing to the pleasure. “Oh, that’s what I wanted,” she encourages. It leaves her throat like a purr and Calum shivers again at the sound.

They lay together, for a moment, her nails scratching lightly at the muscles in his back. Calum sinks into her, body going heavy. Her slight shift squeezes around him and he groans, sensitive. “Don’t--I can’t,” he laughs.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to.” Even her own voice sounds heavy and slurred. She kisses his temple and Calum pushes up. He’s slow to pull out, enjoying the drips that follow of his own release spilling out of her. With one finger he gently scopes it back up and into her. The familiar twinge of desire pulls at his lower gut and it’s almost enough. She even shivers, but Calum watches the way her eyes stay closed.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Sleepy now,” she returns.

“Let’s get cleaned up first and then we can nap.” His voice sounds farther away towards the end of the sentence and she assumes he went to the attached bathroom. The rush of water from the sink confirms it. Something wet and warm presses against her--no doubt Calum with a warm washcloth.

The clean up is swift as both of them share a shower and then under the sheets, they curl up around each other. Calum kisses the top of her head as she nuzzles in closely. “I want pancakes after our nap,” she mutters.

“I think we still have some blueberries.”

She pops up onto her elbow and grins a little. “It’s like you can read my mind.”

Calum laughs. “Maybe just a little bit.”

#calum hood #calum hood fic #calum hood smut #calum hood fluff #calum hood imagine #calum hood blurb #5sos #5sos fanfic #5sos fic #5sos imagine #5sos smut #h writes #5 seconds of summer #5 seconds of summer fanfic #5 seconds of summer smut #5 seconds of summer fic

[the-widow-sisters]

Please Don’t Close Your Eyes

Summary: When Yelena, Natasha, and Steve go out on a mission, Natasha ends up taking a nasty fall from a building. All Yelena can think of is how terrified she is and how much she adores Natasha and cannot lose her.

Word Count: 2378

  Yelena stabbed a man in the stomach, successfully making him double over and she swiftly brought her elbow over his head, knocking him out of the battle. She took a quick glance behind her during the lull in fighting, trying to get at least a small glimpse of red hair.

  Natasha and Steve had been going to go out on a mission together, and after Yelena begged for a long while, she finally convinced Natasha to let her come. Yelena was extremely excited about it, and she loved the idea of being able to fight alongside her big sister. She also loved any extra opportunities she could have to tell Alexei that she was hanging out with Captain America.

  After a moment of searching, she spotted Natasha not too far from her battling the men around, and Yelena grinned just a tiny bit before swiftly returning her attentions to the enemies approaching. She quickly used the force of one of the men running to her and swung over him quickly before grabbing him and slinging him in the direction of the other men approaching.

  His sudden weight threw them off balance, and Yelena wasted no time in throwing multiple knives in their direction, landing all of them squarely in each of their knees. She wasted no time in running forward and kicking them each in the face in quick succession, rendering them useless in the battle.

  It was then that she heard a yell, and she spun around in Natasha’s direction quickly, her eyes searching out the red hair again. She spotted it as soon as it disappeared over the edge of the building.

  “NATALIA!!!!” Yelena screamed the woman’s name helplessly, moving as fast as she could toward the edge of the building. To her horror, Natasha had already hit the ground, and she was still lying there. Yelena swiftly shot a line and ran down the side of the building. She quickly dodged the sharp piece of metal poking out several yards up from the concrete below, and she unhooked herself in a pure panic as she ran for the redhead.

  Natasha was lying there, her eyes shut and seemingly unconscious. It filled Yelena with an incomparable terror as she darted for her sister.

  “Natashka, please, no, no, no, no, no,” Yelena muttered under her breath, crashing onto her knees and grabbing onto the woman before her lying on the ground.

  Yelena swiftly looked her over, realizing that there was quite a bit of blood coming from her sister’s side. Yelena felt the unadulterated fear running through her, and she quickly ripped at her sleeve despite the fact that this was her favorite white super-suit. It soon came loose from the sheer force that she was exerting on it in the midst of her terror. She then quickly tried to wrap it around Natasha’s waist despite knowing that it would be a tight fit.

  In the midst of Natasha’s unconscious state, she furrowed her brow, shrinking away from Yelena’s force, and Yelena shook her head quickly.

  “It’s okay, it’s okay, just be still,” Yelena told her softly, reaching a bloodstained hand up to touch the older woman’s face. Her stomach was churning as she tied the cloth around her sister securely.

  She looked up, trying to see how her sister had not managed to catch herself, and she quickly noted the failed line that had not managed to latch onto anything when Natasha had presumably shot it. She also soon realized that the jutted out metal that she had dodged on her way down to see the redhead was dripping with something that suspiciously resembled blood.

  Yelena looked down at her sister, reaching her hands out to Natasha’s face and touching it gently.

  “C’mon… I know you’re upside down, but you’ve got to get rightside up,” Yelena whispered between just the two of them.

  It was then that she heard someone running up to the two of them.

  She spun around quickly toward the person and withdrew a knife, using herself to create a barrier between Natasha’s body and whoever dared come close. Fortunately, it was only Steve, but she did not put down her knife. While she knew he would not do anything to her but it still made her anxious when he was so near to her and her injured sister and the fact he was moving so quickly toward them made her uneasy.

  Steve paused for a moment, raising his hands in a surrendering gesture in an attempt to calm her down. She noticed how his eyes were nervously shifting between her and Natasha, and she quickly loosened, knowing that he was her best option for getting Natasha the help she needed.

  “Don’t just stand there, Wonder Boy, help me!” Yelena told him, and she loathed how her voice shook just a bit in the middle of a demand that was meant to be strong and infallible.

  Steve wasted no time in carefully lifting the redhead in his arms, and Yelena resisted the urge to snap at him for jostling her big sister just enough to bring a frown to her face despite her current state.

  They then hurried for the car, making a break for Stark Industries.

    ……………………………………………………………………………………………

      By that evening, Natasha was safely in bed, her wounds tended to. However, she still had not woken up since the incident occurred.

  When Yelena freaked out a little and asked why the redhead was not awake already, everyone assured her that it was normal, and that Natasha’s fall was likely to blame for the extended bout of unconsciousness. Natasha had cracked several ribs when she fell, and she had cut her side on the way down, which caused her to lose a lot of blood. Yelena’s stomach was churning, and she almost felt like throwing up, but she tried diligently not to let the others know that.

  The whole time that they were working on her, she made sure she was right there close by regardless of whether she was in their way or not. She insisted that she was going to stitch Natasha’s cut, and she wanted to help with binding her ribcage, but she did not know how to do it as well as some of the others did.

  By the time they had tended to her, everyone else was exhausted, and they had elected to go to bed and tell Friday to regulate Natasha in case something changed with her condition since there was nothing they could do.

  But Yelena would not be that easily deterred. No matter how tired she was, she was not going to leave Natasha’s side. Ever.

  Steve had gently told her that she needed to get some sleep so she could be at her best whenever Natasha woke up. She had quickly retorted with the fact that she wanted to be awake to see Natasha wake up.

  He had not argued with her any further, and she felt quite victorious indeed about their discussion, and she had just settled further in her seat next to the bed, leaning forward and resting her chin on her arms.

  At this point, Yelena felt her eyelids growing heavy, but her heart was still aching deeply enough to keep her mind wind awake despite the physical exhaustion from the day’s stress. She looked at her sister’s face, just staring at her as her heart squeezed with every breath Natasha took. Natasha had several little cuts on her face and there was dried blood running down from her nose and sprawled in a large patch across the side of her forehead. It made Yelena hurt. The blonde reached out, taking Natasha’s hand in her own and squeezing it gently three times before latching on in a bit firmer hold.

  She averted her eyes from Natasha’s face and looked at her fingers. Both of their hands were bloodstained from the events of earlier. Yelena had not left Natasha alone long enough to go wash her own. However, the fact that Natasha’s hands were not clean bothered Yelena. Natasha’s face being bloodied also made something in Yelena painfully ache.

  So Yelena squeezed her sister’s hand once more before getting up and heading to the bathroom to get a warm washcloth so she could wipe down her sister’s skin and clean it of the pain and agony of the day. Once she wrung out a washcloth with warm water, she headed back to the bedside to accompany Natasha.

  She reached out to Natasha’s hand that was nearest to her, holding it in her hand gently and rubbing at the stains carefully yet firmly and smiling only the smallest bit as she watched the red remove itself from the older woman’s skin. She soon finished with Natasha’s left hand, and she reached across Natasha gently, pulling her right arm so that it laid across her abdomen and did not put pressure on the redhead’s ribs or touch the cut. She then quickly cleaned that hand as well.

  After a moment, she headed back to the bathroom to wring out the cloth again. She hesitantly returned to the bed and headed to the chair she had been sitting in. She pulled it up closer to where Natasha’s head was resting, and she leaned up to better access the redhead’s face, her knee on the chair as she used her elbows to support her as she wiped at her sister’s face carefully. Natasha did not even stir, and Yelena swiftly finished.

  Yelena then sat the cloth on the table next to the bed. She sat back down in the chair, but as soon as she did, she found that she did not like the lack of closeness with Natasha. Yelena then hesitantly kicked off her shoes and unzipped her uniform, revealing the tank top and leggings underneath as she shimmied out of the suit. She then crawled onto the bed next to her sister, laying down beside her and looking at her face that was turned toward Yelena in her sleep.

  It was then that Yelena took the opportunity to truly inspect her most favorite person in the world.

  Natasha was so peaceful in this state, and she looked so much younger. She looked a lot more like she did whenever Yelena managed to find old photographs of her when the Avengers had first begun. Somehow, though, she was even more serene and seemed as if all of the world’s woes were a million miles away. Yelena honestly was not sure if she liked this look for her sister, because it too greatly reminded her of her sister’s devastating albeit temporary death.

  So she quickly moved her focus from that aspect of her sister’s visage and focused on the more physical parts, just taking her all in while she had the opportunity. It was not that she thought Natasha would have a problem with her just staring at her, but she would have to think of some explanation for it besides the fact that she just wanted to take in every detail since she loved her so much.

  She really wished she could be looking deeply into those pretty green eyes that always made Yelena feel so wonderfully loved and cared for. The ones that took away her fears and her doubts and her loneliness.

  However, she decided that she would just settle for taking in the other details, with the first of which being that there were dark bags under Natasha’s eyes. Yelena painfully wondered when her sister had last gotten a good sleep.

  As her eyes traveled Natasha’s face, she quickly noted the small mole. It was a miniscule imperfection that raised up from Natasha’s skin, but Yelena thought it was just another thing that made her sister beautiful. She hesitantly brought her hand up to touch it with her fingertip, just looking at it.

  She then moved her fingers down Natasha’s face, just feeling the skin and lightening her touch as she came across cuts. In her trails, she finally reached Natasha’s hair and she hesitated for just a moment before doing something that she had never really had the opportunity to do.

  She very carefully ran her fingers through Natasha’s hair before flattening her fingers and just stroking her head gently, just enjoying the softness of the hair. Yelena always absolutely adored Natasha’s red hair and thought that it was the prettiest color in the world. It was the strongest color of red that Yelena had ever seen, and it was the reason that red was her favorite color. Of course, she would sooner die than tell Natasha such a thing, but she nevertheless felt it strongly.

  “That feels nice,” Natasha suddenly murmured, and Yelena’s eyes went wide as she immediately paused in her ministrations. Natasha furrowed her brow a little and opened her eyes a little, shifting her gaze as she tried to properly orient herself.

  Yelena could not help her ridiculous smile as she moved her hand away from Natasha and just looked at her best friend in the entire world. Natasha looked down at her, those green eyes glinting in the dim lighting of the room. Yelena could see the fondness and love in them as she weakly smiled just the smallest bit.

  “Do you feel okay?” Yelena asked her quietly, trying her hardest to resist the urge to reach out and hug her to death. Natasha just looked at the blonde, and Yelena could see the pain that was there as Natasha shifted a little.

  However, Natasha did not answer, and she just tiredly raised her right hand and grabbed at the side of Yelena’s neck gently as she tried to pull her closer. Yelena complied, not sure what the redhead was doing until her forehead was suddenly pressed against Natasha’s.

  “Ya tebya lyublyu, rooskaya,” Natasha told her softly, and Yelena melted against her, whispering a swift yet heartfelt reply as she moved nearer to her sister and nestled her face in her neck, hiding from the world and just thanking goodness that Natasha was alive there with her.

  “Don’t get upside down again, please,” Yelena whispered quietly against Natasha’s skin, and Natasha just sighed contentedly, pressing her lips gently to Yelena’s head.

  “I’ll try not to, sweet girl.”

#yelena belova #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff #widow sisters #black widow #marvel #captain america #steve rogers #fanfic #fic #fanfiction #black widow fanfic #black widow fanfiction #black widow fic #marvel fic #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #black widow 2021

[nyxxon]

Persodroids (Asui Tsuyu and Hatsume Mei)

Request:

@Genos — Quotev

Anything specific to include: One Day, a young rich girl is taken to an Android store by her servant to buy some friends for Y/N while the mother was away. Y/N decides on Tsuyu and Mei, whom are on sale (Both have speakers for mouths and are in their hero outfits). Once home, and Y/N's mother leaves, Y/N turns the two on, having lots of fun with them over the next week. One night, while Y/N and the two cuddle together, Y/N wishes she could be like them, going to sleep snuggled between the two androids.

» Changed it up more to be more of a basic introduction. Possible part 2 with the end as you had described. Hope that is okay.

———

The drive to the large and extravagant store hadn't taken long since, before you knew it, your driver—Sero Hanta—pulled up to the store with you and your maid, Uraraka Ochako, sitting in the back seat.

     Remaining inside the car, you knitted your brows as you looked out the window at the large store with what appeared to be humanoid robots on display..? You weren't sure if that was the proper term, but it'd have to do for now.

     You knew you and Uraraka were going shopping for the day even though you hadn't wanted to. But she and even your mother had insisted you come with Uraraka to where she was going for some reason or another; however, that was all the info you had managed to gather from her during the little ride.

     As you were looking out the window and trying to figure out the reason behind it, it didn't take long for your view to soon change as Uraraka had since exited from the car and made it to your side of the door, opening it.

     Hesitantly you came out of the car before turning to look at Uraraka, "What are we doing here..?"

     "Hmm. You'll see!" She replied almost excitedly as she shut the door of the black car before she began walking towards the store, you following behind her.

     Upon entering, you both were greeted by even more of the humanoid robots all dressed in different and bizarre outfits while all also looking completely different from one another. But they all had speaker-like areas for mouths which was, admittedly, a bit offsetting.

     "Your mother asked me to bring you here to choose out two 'Persodroids' of your own."

     "Uh, 'Persodroids'..?" You blinked at her.

     Uraraka nodded, "It's like a friend of sorts, except it's an android." She stated, "They're quite popular actually."

     "I see . . ."

     Well, that explained why she and your mother wanted you to come to the store.

     "You can choose whichever two you like." Uraraka stated, "I'll wait for you here as you look around."

      You hummed, "What if I don't find one?"

     "I'm sure you will."

     You sighed, "I guess I'll look around then."

     With that, you started off in a random direction to look at all the "Persodroids" that were hanging in display boxes or sitting in human-like positions and whatnot. Each android had a little paper beside them describing them.

     Walking towards one of the androids, one with blonde hair that had a black lightning bolt in his hair, you read the paper: Kaminari Denki is a friendly, social, and energetic boy who likes to hang out with people. He is rather casual when interacting with others although he's also not above petty complaining or overreacting if feeling annoyed or shocked enough. Kaminari may come off as blunt and reckless at times but is always well-meaning. He is also very flirtatious.

      Frowning, you went to the next one beside him. It was a pink-skinned-and-haired alien-looking android of sorts. You read her description paper: Ashido Mina is a cheerful and easygoing girl who displays a smile on her face most of the time. Highly social and excitable, she loves to hang out with her friends and is shown to become very upset when denied an opportunity to be at a gathering.

     She possesses a strong fashion sense and likes to go shopping. Due to her athleticism and energy, Ashido enjoys and is very skilled at dancing. Her demeanor becomes more strict and perfectionistic when teaching others how to dance, in direct contrast to her usual happy-go-lucky nature.

     It seemed they each had their own personalities along with likes and dislikes . . . so it appeared you'd need to look at each card to find your best match.

     With a sigh, you began reading each and every card of the majority of the Persodroids . . .

 

 

After what felt like a few hours, you had read just about every single card for each Persodroid. However, even so, you hadn't managed to find anyone you liked—not that you had expected any different since you honestly didn't have much interest in doing so.

     "Unable to find one you like?" A voice sounded from behind you.

     You jumped a little as you turned around, instantly being greeted by the sight of a rather tall curvaceous woman in a white blouse and tight black pencil skirt with spiky dark purple hair with a pair of striking blue eyes.

     You blinked at her, "Who are you?"

     "Oh, dear. Excuse my rudeness." She started, "I'm Kayama Nemuri, the owner of the Persodroid Store . . . but as I was saying, you appear to be having trouble."

     "I guess."

     She hummed as she looked you up and down, "Come with me." She turned and started walking.

     Blinking at her as she began getting farther and farther, you reluctantly followed her as she began leading you past all the androids you had already read about, opening a door that appeared to lead into a back room of sorts before leading you to a pair of female androids who sat against the wall—alone.

     One had long dark green hair and a skin-tight green and black bodysuit with tan-colored gloves that had buckles around each wrist while also somewhat resembling a frog in a way—possessing larger than average hands.

     The other was a girl with salmon-colored hair styled in thick dreadlocks while wearing a plain black tank top with workshop coveralls tied casually around her waist—a pair of red and gold steampunk goggles on top of her head.

     But both had the basic speaker-like mouth that all the other Persodroids appeared to sport.

     Though with that said, were they messed up?

     "I have a feeling these two may be to your liking." Kayama stated as she handed you two pieces of paper, snapping you from your staring at the two androids.

     You stared down at the papers in her hand before reluctantly taking them and reading over them, reading the one that had "Asui Tsuyu" on the top: Tsuyu is a straightforward and aloof individual who always speaks bluntly from her mind and what she thinks about others. Tsuyu prefers to be called "Tsu," but only by people that she views as friends. She commonly refers to everyone with the honorific "-chan"—save for authority figures.

     She is noticeably calm and collected, being able to stay levelheaded and focused even during the most stressful situations. An honor student since middle school, Tsuyu has great judgment, can communicate her intentions easily, and is rarely moved by emotion, making her an incredibly dependable friend.

     You then proceeded to the one that read "Hatsume Mei" on top: Hatsume Mei shows no fear when it comes to failing, seeing it as an opportunity to learn and do better next time, which is why she does not mind when her inventions fail. She can be seen as self-centered due to putting her love of inventions and gadgets above others, but this selfishness is not a negative as it is out of motivation to improve herself.

     She does seem to be a little bit absent-minded as she is easily distracted and can sometimes be completely unaware of her surroundings. She can also be a bit manipulative at times. Furthermore, she seems inept at reading body language and social cues.

     Admittedly, these two androids did mildly pique your interest—more so than the other ones who had been out in the open. However, you were curious as to why these two were in the practically empty backroom.

     "The green one is Tsuyu and the pink one is Hatsume." Kayama stated.

     "Why are they back here?"

     She hummed, "They are too good just for anyone."

     You raised a brow, "What do you mean?"

     "They're special."

     "Special?"

     A smirk played at her lips, "If you buy them, you shall see."

     You looked at her for a moment then back at the two girl androids. This seemed like the most basic of "buy this" convincing you had ever seen. However . . . you were a bit curious about these Persodroids.

     Perhaps this had been what Yaoyorozu Momo, one of your friends, had been talking about and described one of her maids to be when you two had talked over some tea when you had gone to her place though you didn't pay too much attention to her rambling.

     "So what do you say? Kayama eventually asked.

     "Fine. I will take these two."

     Her smirk widened, "Very well."

     With that, she had soon gotten a few of her workers to prep them to be packed up and placed in your car out front while she led you back to the front desk to ring you up—Uraraka handling the payment once you had told her you had found two you were interested in.

     After Uraraka had paid for the two androids, you both were soon escorted out with the two workers who helped you load the two androids into the trunk of the car before you soon entered it instantly followed by Uraraka.

     After you both had gotten settled, the car was soon off and heading back home. On the way, Uraraka was happy you had found two you wanted as she asked many questions about them.

     Not really wanting to partake in any conversation, you simply handed her the pieces of paper with their descriptions on them as she gladly read it though she did ask which was which with you telling her before she began talking about one thing or another on the way back home as you ignored her—your mind filled with curiosity of the androids you had just bout and, that if what Kayama said was true, what was so special about them.

     Once you had gotten home, the two androids stayed in the car as they waited to be unloaded by two of your own personally helpers around your home who had started towards the car right as you headed inside to see your mother.

     Right as you walked inside, it didn't take long for your eyes to land on your mother as it appeared she was off to head off, a suitcase in hand—being the CEO of one of the biggest companies of Musutafu, so she usually had to attend long meetings which usually had you being alone most of the time.

     As she walked towards youz you began to speak, "Mom–"

     "Oh, (First Name), you're back!" She interrupted, "Did you find two Persodroids you like?"

     "Ah, yes, I did."

     "Wonderful!"

     "But why di–"

     "I have to go, I'm going to be late for my flight if I don't head out now." She stated, "I'll be back in a week."

     "Oh . . ." You had almost forgotten she had a week-long meeting to handle and that her flight left today.

     She placed her hand on the top of your head, "Love you, have fun with your new toys." With those words, she soon left you to your own as you watched as she walked through the door right as the two guys bringing in the boxed androids made their way inside.

     "Where do you want these?"

     You glanced at both of the men carrying the large boxes, appearing to be internally struggling though not saying anything, "You can put them down in the living room."

     The two men nodded as they headed into the living room. After a few seconds, they soon came back into the lobby before heading back out to handle what they had originally been doing before your arrival.

     Making sure you were alone and seeing as Uraraka had left to handle her regular maid duties for the time being, you soon made your way into the living room. Spotting the two large boxes on the ground, you walked towards them before stopping once you had gotten in front of one of them. Bending down, you opened both of the boxes, revealing the two androids.

     As you looked at them, you wondered how you turned them on . . .

     Looking around, you soon found a piece of paper inside one of the boxes. Grabbing it, it was obvious directions on how to turn them on. It appeared you'd have to press the little button on their necks—simple really.

     Hesitantly, you pressed the button on both of their necks. At first, it did nothing so you were about to press it again since you thought that maybe you hadn't pressed it hard or long enough for it to process your actions; however, the one dubbed Tsuyu's eyes snapped open followed by Hatsume's before they slowly began to rise up from the boxes.

     The sudden action of them sitting up caused you to scoot back as you stared at them with somewhat wide eyes. It was a little off-putting with how realistic they looked aside from their mouths, of course.

     You continued to stare over at them silently with your eyes still a bit wide and a bead of sweat on your cheek, taking notice of their eyes appearing to glow with a "processing" symbol. Though their eyes soon reverted to more normal-looking ones—Hatsume's still a bit odd-looking though—after a few more seconds as they began to scan the room, soon stopping on your form.

     Tsuyu was the first one to speak—her voice perfectly human even with the odd speaker mouth, "I'm Tsuyu Asui. But you can call me Tsu."

     "I am Hatsume Mei!" Hatsume said directly after, her voice relatively normal as well, "Who are you?"

     "Uh . . ." You paused for a moment, "(L-Last Name) (First Name)."

     Both of their eyes seemed to turn into the "processing" symbol before reverting back to the more regular eyes.

     "It's a pleasure to meet you, (Last Name)-chan. We are your Personal Androids or 'Persodroids' for short." They said in unison though Hatsume's was a bit more excited sounding, "Basically, we are your android friends."

     "Android friends?"

     "Yes!" Hatsume started. If she had a normal mouth, you were sure she'd have a smile on her face, "We will do anything and everything with you!"

     "As long as you keep us charged that is." Tsuyu came in, her voice not as enthused as Hatsume's, as she placed an oversized finger to her speaker mouth.

     "Our batteries last for three days on average while running on a full charge." Hatsume stated, "We can also function while being charged!"

     "I see."

     "You don't talk much, do you?" She asked.

     "She doesn't seem like the type." Tsuyu answered for you as she studied you.

     "I–"

     "You have such a nice house, (Last Name)!" Hatsume said as she glanced around the living room, her eyes switching to that of computer-animated 8-bit sparkles.

     "Yes, it'd really nice." Today agreed.

     "Are you rich or something?!" Hatsume turned her gaze back to you.

     "Uh, you could say that."

     "Wow, that's so cool!"

     "I agree." Tsuyu came in as she began to gaze about the lavishly furnished living room herself, "It must be nice having such a lot of money."

     You frowned, "I guess."

     As you silently stared at the two "Persodroids" who looked at your house in complete amazement (Hatsume more so), you couldn't pinpoint what was exactly so "special" about them. They looked exactly like all the other androids that littered that store, and you were sure they function the same as the others as well.

     You wondered if there was a way to shut them off, you were sure there was. After all, you didn't care too much about them and had only got them because of what had been said to you as well as Uraraka being very adamant about you getting one . . .

     But at the same time, you were still quite curious about these "Persodroids" as well as curious if they'd eventually show you how special they truly were or if what Mrs. Kayama had told you had been a bunch of bull just to get you to buy them.

     So for the time being, you'd allow these "Persodroids" to continue to run—you watching them closely to see if what the owner of the store had said to you was actually true or not through the passing week. And who knows, maybe they may actually grow on you though you highly doubted that.

     However, with the days to come with the passing week, you weren't expecting the two androids to slowly do just that. In the end, a small friendship between the three of you was destined to begin in that short amount of time . . .

#anime #manga #bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #reader insert #x reader #bnha x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #bnha tsuyu #tsuyu asui x reader #asui tsuyu x reader #tsuyu x reader #androids #alternate universe #fanfic #fanfiction #platonic #friends #android #friend #cute #bnha hatsume #hatsume x reader #mei hatsume #mei hatsume x reader #hatsume mei x reader #android hatsume #android tsuyu

[spockina]

playin' games (with my heart)

ok, so. i wrote this for day 4 of buddie's first kiss week (which was on a dare). but the thing is: i hated it. the more i looked at it, the more i hated it. i don't know why. but it's friday night and i'm home alone in the middle of quarantine wishing i were, in fact, as drunk as most of these people are. this is not what i usually write, so i’m nervy, but here. have it anyway

title is from the bsb song w the same name. it doesn't have anything to do with the story but i hate having to figure out titles

3.5k words / truth or dare / read on ao3

-

The night is young, awfully so. Eddie doesn’t remember ever feeling this young, being this young.

Tonight, he is.

He’s got a drink in hand. He doesn’t know what it is, who put it there. But he’s got it, and he downs it in one fluid motion, enjoying the burn, and laughing to himself; it wasn’t even a shot.

He’s not entirely sure what brought them all here, if he’s being honest. Well, he knows. It was just dinner at Bobby and Athena’s, as they try to do at least once a month. What he means is: he’s not sure how they ended up having a party. It wasn’t supposed to be a party, if he remembers correctly. But suddenly, Harry was off to see his grandparents for the week, Denny had a sleepover and Karen’s mom wanted to have Nia for a little bit, Christopher begged to go to Pepa’s house where his cousins would be for the weekend. May has been in college for six months now, Maddie still has two months to go before the baby comes. It’s adults only.

It’s almost like they all forgot what that was supposed to feel like.

His vision is just a little bit blurry at the edges, his limbs loose in a way they haven’t been in a long time. He feels good, comfortable.

There’s some kind of pop music Eddie doesn’t know playing loudly, Athena, Bobby, Hen and Chimney are dancing in the middle of the living room, Maddie and Karen watching and laughing. Michael, his boyfriend, and Buck are in the middle of some intense conversation on the other side of the room.

Eddie loves them all.

The laughter that escapes his lips is directed at no one; there isn’t even anything funny happening, he’s just… feeling good. He hasn’t felt this good in a long time.

Buck sidles up to him, out of nowhere, offers him a beer. He takes it, nods his thanks.

“Whatcha laughing at?” He asks. “You look goofy.”

Eddie shrugs. “Don’t know, actually,” and that sets him off again.

“I think you’re drunk, buddy,” Buck says, but Eddie can tell he’s not that far behind. “‘M not judging!” Buck hurries to add. “Just pointing it out.”

They look at each other for a second, sipping their beers.

Buck’s cheeks are flushed, alcohol working hard against his white skin, making his eyes stand out. He’s beautiful. It’s not the first time the thought has crossed Eddie’s mind. It’s not the first time they’re drunk together, either, but Eddie always makes sure to stay in line, not let his thoughts wander. It’s a little harder when Buck has unbuttoned his black shirt and rolled up the sleeves, tight tank top under it, allowing Eddie to see the flush going down his neck and into his chest; his long legs in some tight pants that Eddie is pointedly not looking at. Eddie can feel Buck’s stare almost like a physical force pushing into his skin, and he has to look away for a second.

“Hey, yo!” Michael yells out, trying to be louder than the music. He fails at that, but succeeds at breaking the moment he was having with Buck, and Eddie’s thankful (and just a little sad about it). Michael still gets everyone’s attention even though the music is louder. “We should be playing party games.”

“Ooh, how ‘bout some truth or dare?” Athena suggests, and Eddie was not expecting that.

“If everyone promises no hard feelings, no matter what happens,” Bobby adds, always awfully reasonable.

“I suggest someone finds fun Bobby so we can play some party games!,” Buck yells back, and everyone cheers.

“Hey,” Eddie quips, “we’re all adults, huh? I’m sure we can work something out.”

“I’m extremely sober,” Maddie says, laughter in her voice, “and I promise you guys I’m gonna have so much fun!”

“As long as you’re happy, baby,” Chim says, and Eddie smiles, so big it hurts.

It feels good to let go, not to worry about Christopher, knowing he’s in good hands, and not to worry about Buck, because he can see him at all time. It feels good to watch his friends having fun, being reckless in a good way.

For the first time in a long, long while, Eddie feels no guilt. No guilt about having someone else taking care of Christopher, no guilt about having fun, being drunk, letting loose; no guilt about looking at Buck and thinking about how fucking hot he looks.

Buck has a tequila bottle in one hand, and a bunch of plastic shot glasses stacked in his other hand.

“Help me out here, Eddie, c’mon,” he says, handing Eddie the bottle, while he passes everyone the tiny cups. “Sorry, Maddie, you don’t get any. Sucks to be you.”

“Thanks, asshole, I’m pregnant.”

“Which is why you don’t get any!”

“Oh, I get plenty,” she says with a wink at Chim, teasing, and Buck scrunches up his face, yelling gross, Maddie!, and she laughs, throwing her head back, while Chim laughs on the other side of the room.

Eddie pours everyone a shot.

“Ok,” Buck says, “everyone ready? On three! One… Two… Three!”

They all drink, and in the end agree to play some Frankenstein’s monster of a game: truth or dare, choosing truth and refusing to answer means taking a shot; choosing dare and refusing to do it means taking two shots – Bobby declares he won’t be refusing anything, to which Athena replies: “Don’t worry, we’ll come up with something equally as humiliating for you”. Being an asshole means everyone can gang up on you. They’re all adults, all car keys have been confiscated. Nothing is off limits. Maddie gets to be the judge of everything.

“Playing sober while pregnant sucks, my friends,” she reasons and, well, she’s right.

They sit in a circle, because they’re mostly drunk and it’s fun. Athena, Bobby, Michael, his boyfriend, Chimney, Hen, Karen, Eddie and Buck.

Their knees are touching, and Eddie feel like a schoolboy, but he can’t concentrate on anything else besides that.

“Ok,” Maddie says. “Chimney’s starting because I’m the judge and I say so! Spin the bottle, baby!”

Chimney rubs his hands and spins. It lands on Hen.

“Henrietta, my love! Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

He smirks. “Who’s your best friend? Me or Athena?”

There’s a chorus of whoa going around, everyone laughing. Hen looks pained.

“No. No, I can’t, pass me that bottle,” she says, dejected, which only makes everyone laugh more.

Hen spins, then, and it lands on Michael.

“Dare,” he says, before she can even ask.

Hen smirks.

“I want you to give Bobby a kiss.”

Buck chokes on nothing, which makes everyone laugh. Eddie puts his hand on Buck’s knee, trying to steady him for a second.

Michael looks at his boyfriend, looks at Athena. Looks at Bobby. His boyfriend nods, playful smile on his lips.

“Go on, boys,” Athena says, a tone to her voice that no one can identify, but they sure can hear. She licks her lips.

Michael nods, goes on his knees. Athena taps Bobby on the knee, and he does the same. It’s mostly a non-kiss. They barely graze each other’s lips before they’re moving back, and Hen, Athena and Chim immediately start booing them.

“Man, y’all suck,” Athena says, but she’s laughing. Bobby’s blush is furious. Buck’s laughter is loud, which gets everyone going.

Michael spins, then. It lands on Karen.

“So?”

“Dare.”

“Give Hen a lap dance,” he says, and he looks incredibly pleased with himself.

“Damn,” Eddie says, and notices his hand is still on Buck’s thigh. He picks up his beer just for a reason to move his hand away, to quit being a creep.

“Whose phone is playing the music?” Karen asks, and she doesn’t look shy at all. She changes the song to something with a low bass, and when Hen sits on the chair, as they all turn to watch, she puts on a show.

“Damn, Karen, my girl!” Athena yells, as Michael wolf-whistles, and everyone laughs.

“God, babe, you’re good,” Hen says, and they kiss.

Everyone sits back down at their original spots.

“Michael, you just had the best idea,” Chim says. He sounds like he’s plotting something. Eddie has the feeling he doesn’t want to know.

Karen spins, and it lands on Chimney.

“Truth.”

“Ok.” Karen looks serious, takes a deep breath. “Chimney. Is it a boy or a girl?”

Everyone explodes in laughter. Maddie, above them on the couch, starts yelling:

“Overruled, overruled!”

“Sorry, Karen, guess I’ll have to take a shot.” He does.

“You’re all super funny,” Maddie says. “Ha-ha.”

Karen blows her a kiss.

“Ok, my turn,” Chim says, and spins. It lands on Eddie.

Chimney slips on a poker face immediately.

“Edmundo. Truth or dare?”

Eddie wants to say truth, he does.

“Dare.”

Chim smirks.

“I want you to sit tight through a lap dance. From Buck.”

Buck chokes. Again.

“How is that my dare?” Eddie asks, but he knows as soon as he says the words that it’s the wrong thing to say.

“You know why this dare is for you, Eddie,” Chimney replies, which. Fair. Everyone knows, probably. Eddie’s suddenly drunker than he’s ever been in his entire life.

Chaos descends. Everyone is laughing, or making some snarky remark Eddie is pointedly ignoring.

“Buck.” Bobby says, low in the middle of the noise, but Eddie still catches it. “Are you ok?”

He doesn’t reply. Instead, he grabs the tequila bottle and takes a shot, then another one.

“Alright, Eddie,” he says, “move your ass to the chair.” He turns to Athena, making grabby hands. “Phone.”

Suddenly, everyone’s quiet.

Eddie’s sitting on the chair, and Buck, already taller than him when they’re both standing up straight, is looming in front of him, looking impossibly tall, impossibly broad, impossibly big. Buck shouldn’t even be possible. Eddie is sure Buck is a fever dream he’s having; that’s the only possible explanation to this moment.

God, Eddie is so screwed.

The song starts, and it’s probably not what any of them expected, but it is, somehow, exactly something Buck would pull up.

He cracks his neck, looking down at Eddie. This is another person. This is another Buck, in an alternate universe, where he looks at Eddie like he wants to eat him whole. He’s so damn big.

He starts moving, and Eddie knows he isn’t the only one surprised by just how not gangly he is. He’s never gangly, in life, but Eddie wasn’t expecting him to be able to move his hips like that. He’s not looking at anyone, can’t possibly tear his eyes away from Buck’s body, but he knows everyone’s thinking the same.

Who is this man?

He moves, his hips swaying as he goes, until he’s behind Eddie. He goes down, his hands moving slowly from Eddie’s shoulders, down the length of his arms, and back up. He keeps going, until his hands are on both sides of Eddie’s head, and then he’s tipping it back, making Eddie look at him, upside down. He winks. Eddie’s breath catches. Oh, God.

He moves in front of Eddie again, and starts coming close. Eddie hopes he won’t come any closer, that’s dangerous, but of course Buck does. Of course, Buck pretty much sits on Eddie’s lap, moving his long legs on either side of Eddie’s. Of fucking course, Buck moves his hips. Never learned a thing about control, huh?

He takes Eddie’s hands, places them low on his belly, holding onto Eddie’s wrists, and makes them move up, up, up, until Eddie gets the memo and starts pushing Buck’s shirt off of his shoulders until it falls to the floor.

Somewhere, distant in Eddie’s mind, he thinks about the fact that he can’t hear shit save for the song, loud around them. Their friends are almost annoyingly quiet after all that noise. But, then again, Eddie gets it. Buck’s putting on a show.

And, frankly, the whole thing is going fine. Is Eddie currently sporting a hard-on while Buck is in his lap? Sure. But that was par for the course, right? That was exactly what Chimney was hoping would happen. So, yeah, Eddie is doing fine. He is.

Right until Buck sinks his head to Eddie’s neck and licks a wet, wet stripe up to his ear.

Eddie, who was being a good boy up until now and was keeping his hands to himself, is only human, and cannot help himself as his hands shot up to hold onto Buck’s thighs, hard.

The song ends. Buck stills where he is, and presses a kiss behind Eddie’s ear, where his face is still tucked against Eddie’s neck, and moves up slowly, giving Eddie a second to breath.

Hen’s the first to break.

“Holy shit, Buckaroo! Whew, I’m hot over here, baby, and I don’t even like whatchu got!”

Buck laughs, ducks his head, a blush spreading hard down his neck.

“How you holding up there, Eddie?” Chimney says, teasing, and Maddie throws a cushion at him. “Ow, babe!”

“Shut up, Chim,” she says. Eddie’s thankful.

The music goes back to whatever it was before, and Eddie moves back to his spot quick, grabbing Buck’s shirt of the floor, balling it up, and placing it on his lap. A guy has modesty. Chim won’t stop looking at him, a knowing smirk on his lips – but hey. It’s not like no one else was watching. Everyone knows. Whatever.

He takes a shot of tequila, just for good measure. Then he spins. It lands on Athena.

“Truth or dare?”

“Truth for a change, I guess; we need to stay alive.”

He laughs. “Ok. Tell us one thing Bobby would not like for you to tell us.”

Buck’s laughter is the only thing he can hear.

“Oh, Eddie, risky!”

Athena’s face is the look of mischief. “Sometimes my husband over here wants to wear socks to bed, if you catch my meaning,” she wiggles her eyebrows, looks around at everyone. “I don’t let him, of course.”

This just might be the loudest everyone’s laughed so far.

“Hey, I’m old, ok? A guy gets cold,” Bobby tries to go for nonchalant, but his cheeks are almost neon red.

“I’ll tell you guys,” Maddie starts, and Chimney immediately starts groaning. “Mr. Chimney has tried that once or twice on me. Stay strong, Athena!”

They laugh, and Athena spins. It lands on Eddie, but Maddie stops them.

“Nah, he just went, let the guy breathe. Spin again.”

It lands on Karen this time.

“Truth or dare, babe?”

“Truth.”

“Who’s your favorite? Michael or me?”

“You guys really need to quit the favorite thing,” Maddie complains from the couch, while Karen laughs.

“Nah, sis, Imma have a shot,” she says, and does.

She spins, and it lands on Buck.

“Alright, Buck! Truth or dare?”

Buck smirks. “Dare.”

Karen looks at Chimney. They smirk at each other.

“Brave, brave boy,” she says. “Take a shot, Buck.”

He looks confused. “Is that the dare?”

“Take the shot.”

He’s still confused, Eddie can see, but he does as he’s told.

“Good boy, Buck. Ready?”

“Yep,” he says, popping the p at the end.

“Seven minutes in heaven. You and Eddie.”

It’s Eddie’s turn to choke.

It feels as though someone hit the slow-motion button on the universe’s remote. He can feel his heart beating in his chest, can hear as everyone cheers and groans and laughs around them. When he’s able to focus again, Buck is already standing up and he’s offering one hand down to Eddie.

Taking it is both the easiest and riskiest thing Eddie could do tonight.

This has to be a fever dream, right? There’s no way this is happening to Eddie. They’re all adults. All drunk out of their minds, playing a stupid game of truth or dare. There’s no way this is happening.

But, hey. If this is a fever dream, then might as well take the chance while he has it. If he’s hallucinating, then there’ll be no consequences.

He takes Buck’s hand.

Karen and Chimney high five.

Eddie can hear as Athena yells “just go in the bathroom”, but Buck was already one step ahead of her. He locks the door and turns off the light, as dictate seven minutes in heaven rules.

They’re quiet, but they’re breathing heavy. Eddie has his back against the wall, and he’s reminded, yet again, of just how damn big Buck is, especially when he’s all up in Eddie’s space like this, when his hands are bracketing Eddie’s head, keeping him in place.

“Hi,” Buck says, and Eddie can hear the smile in his voice.

“Hi,” he replies, and he hates how breathless he sounds, but the only thing he can think of is the time they’re wasting. Seven minutes. Maybe the only seven minutes with Buck he’ll ever get. The clock is ticking.

“Is it ok, Eddie? We don’t have to do this.” He sounds careful, and Eddie hates it. He hates it when Buck’s careful with him, but what he hates more is the hesitation; hates that maybe Buck doesn’t want this, and that they’ve been forced into this situation by their pushy friends. He feels suddenly sober and he doesn’t like it.

“We don’t have to, Buck. It’s fine if you don’t want to. We’ll be fine.” He can’t help how dry his voice goes, how he sounds like he just lost something. He feels like he has.

There’s a pause. He can feel Buck moving, and suddenly there are big (thick, strong) hands around his jaw and cheeks, and Buck’s entire body is pressed against his, hot like a furnace.

“Oh, Eddie, I want it.”

And then he’s kissing Eddie, hard, his tongue pushing its way into Eddie’s mouth like it has a right to it, and, boy, Eddie is drunk.

Buck keeps his relentless assault on Eddie’s mouth as his hands move down, one settling on Eddie’s waist, and another going lower to grab a handful of his thigh, and Eddie, well. He’d be embarrassed, in any other circumstances, but right now all he can do is let out a small groan that still makes its way out despite their kiss, and Buck pulls away for a minute to laugh. Eddie is about to protest, except that Buck latches onto his neck next, and oh, oh, my God, this is embarrassing, but Eddie is painfully hard in his pants.

He moves one of his hands up where he can’t get a good tangle in Buck’s hair, because it’s so short (and ain’t that a shame?), but he can scrape his short nails against Buck’s scalp and the back of his neck. He learns that that does something, because Buck’s roughly shoving a leg in between Eddie’s, and suddenly there’s the amazing friction that Eddie so desperately wanted. He croaks out a broken get back up here, because he needs Buck’s tongue against his again, right now, or else he’s pretty sure he’s going to die.

He feels like the teenager he never really had the time to be. It’s intoxicating.

Buck’s hands are inside his shirt, moving up so, so slowly, when there’s a knock on the door and the spell breaks.

“Fuck,” Buck says, so heartfelt that it makes Eddie snort.

“Time’s up, boys,” Bobby says on the other side.

Buck squeezes his waist.

“Be right there,” he rasps out, and he sounds good.

Eddie knows he’ll never recover from this.

“We’re finishing this later, right?” Buck asks, and he sounds hopeful. Eddie knows this is their make-or-break moment.

“Come sleep over,” Eddie says, and before he can think, Buck’s kissing him again, hard, happy, smiling against Eddie’s lips.

“Every night, Eddie.” Another kiss. “Every night.”

They stumble out of the bathroom, shielding their eyes from the lights after the darkness inside. Everyone’s quiet for a moment, until Chim says:

“Damn, Eddie, sure you guys were making out and not that Buck was punching you on the neck?”

They all start laughing, and Eddie knows he’s blushing, but Buck hugs him, hiding his face in Eddie’s neck, as he says I’m sorry, and Eddie decides he doesn’t care. He starts laughing with them, because, really, this whole thing is ridiculous. He moves his hands inside Buck’s shirt, moving them up Buck’s back, and holding on tight.

Eddie feels distant, content to be hiding behind Buck’s body, drunk on the alcohol, but also on the smell of him, and nothing matters, until he hears Athena say:

“Does this mean the game is done?”

“The two of you suck!” Hen says, but she’s laughing.

“They sure will,” Chim adds, to which Eddie has to laugh.

“Congrats, Chim, that’s the first joke!” Buck says, muffled against Eddie, but somehow it still makes its way out and everyone laughs.

Maddie gets up from the couch. “Alright, let’s just go back to everyone having fun,” she says.

And they do.

#buddie #buddie fanfic #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 fanfic #911 on fox #truth or dare #seven minutes in heaven #all the fire fam is there #all canonical relationships are also there #ok i'm nervy here goes nothing #my words

[benedictsvestcollection]

Chapter 6 sneak peek: And there’s somethin’ ‘bout a kiss, that’s gonna lead to more.

Fun fact: This is only like half of the chapter. There’s like... Smut a comin’. 

The weeks that followed Whiskey and Brandy under quarantine in Italy, found them in a domesticated routine. They’d share meals together, he would cook and she did the dishes. They would stream movies or shows, would take turns reading books out loud to each other. Although, Brandy preferred hearing Whiskey read to her. She even managed to convince him to read Pride and Prejudice once which she loved hearing. 

They both found themselves ignoring what was building up between them. The undeniable connection they had, which only made moments between them become even more and more heated. 

About a week after their dance, Brandy woke up in the middle of the night. Unable to stop thinking about him. “Fuck,” she mumbled to herself and reached for her water bottle but found it empty. Muttering, she rolled out of bed, hair a mess and her pink tank top and tiny shorts askew… She quietly padded out of her bedroom to fill her water in the bathroom. 

She was about to open the door when it opened on it’s own. Golden light, revealing Whiskey’s messy hair and an amused, soft grin on his face. “Did I wake you sweetheart?” He asked her as he leaned against the doorframe. 

Yes. “No.” She answered. Well, not in the way he thinks. She thought to herself. “Woke up thirsty.” She held up her water bottle to show him. She took in the way he looked. Goddammit, he looks good. Boxers and a white t-shirt and she was a mess thinking about him all over again. 

“Mmmmmm. I see. Gotta stay hydrated.” He nodded at her, eyes flicking to see her pink tank top with hearts on it and tiny, matching shorts that left little to the imagination. Fuck. How’d she expect him to go back to sleep now that he knew she was wearing that in the next room? This woman was going to be the death of him. And he would let her kill him like that, if he got to see her like this often. 

She flushed under his gaze. His brown eyes staring at her so openly and her pajamas weren’t really helping matters either. “Yeah… Something like that.” She told him softly as they stared at each other for several long moments. The silence stretching between them for far too long to be anything other than longing. 

Whiskey leaned forward and towards her. “Goodnight sweetheart.” He whispered in her ear, his voice deep and rumbling. 

“Goodnight Jack.” She told him softly as she slipped into the bathroom to fill her water and collect herself. 

--------

Three weeks into their quarantine in Rome and Brandy woke up depressed. Today was her birthday, she was on lockdown in Rome and she couldn’t go out and enjoy it. “Ugh.” She moaned and rolled over onto her pillow. 

“Knock knock.” Came the ever familiar voice of Whiskey through her door. “Hope you’re decent.” He teased as he poked his head in the door and strode in carrying a tray. 

Brandy’s eyes widened and she sat up. “Wh-What’s this?” She asked him.

“Happy Birthday.” He told her with a smile as he set the tray down on her legs. The tray had creme and strawberry filled crepes, covered with a dusting of powdered sugar. A caramel macchiato that he thought was too sweet, but knew she loved them...  and a vase with a flower in it. 

“You…. Remembered?” She asked him softly. Blushing as she stared at the tray, before meeting his gaze. 

“I remember everything about you, sweetheart.” He told her plainly before his lips twitched into a smile. “This here, is just step one of your birthday today. Once you’re done with that, I’m gonna get a bath goin’ for you to relax in. I found some bubbles and salts.” He teased her. Then tonight, I’m taking you out on a date… Here at home, so dress up.” He winked at her. 

Brandy couldn’t believe that he was doing all this for her. God, she wanted to kiss the hell out of him. Instead, she settled for biting and licking her bottom lip at the smell of her breakfast. “Thanks Jack.” She told him with a smile before halting. “I… I don’t have anything really nice for tonight. Didn’t know I would need to pack a ballgown.” She teased him. 

“Oh but don’t you though?’ He asked her with a smirk. “Let me know after your bath if you still need somethin’ to wear for tonight.” He leaned forward and kissed her temple. Lingering for a few moments before pulling away. 

After he left, she ate her breakfast rather quickly because it looked so damn good. She poked her head into the bathroom and took it all in. He had a hot bath for her, bubbles and bath salts filling the air. Even lit a couple of candles that had been sitting under the sink to give her a relaxing mood. She put on some calming music, stripped and sank into the tub with a sigh. “Goddammit Jack.” She murmured to herself. He really did know how to show a girl he cared for her. And it was making her even weaker for him. 

After a few moments, her eyes caught sight of a pale blue chiffon dress hanging from the bathroom door. She knew that dress. That was her dress. But she never wore it except to a friend's wedding she had attended recently. And she had left it back home in Kentucky. “How in the hell…” 

Her thoughts were interrupted by her phone going off. Of course. She grumbled and answered the phone. Knowing already, who it was. “You have shit timing you know.” She told Tequila.

“Why? You riding a certain cowboy for your birthday?” He asked, and she could picture a smirk on his smug ass face as he said it. 

“What in the hell is wrong with you? And no. I’m taking a bath... Alone.” She told him before he asked her if Whiskey was with her. 

“Did you get your present?” He asked her with a chuckle. 

“I uh… I don’t know. Depends on what you sent.” She told him with a shrug as she sank as far into the tub as she could without getting her phone wet. 

“It’s blue and I had to go through your entire damn closet to find it.” He teased her. 

“What? You sent that here?” She asked him as her eyes snapped back to the blue dress.

“Yup. Whiskey asked me to send one of your dresses and some shoes over. Although, Ginger picked the shoes because I have no idea what matches.” 

She rolled her eyes at him. Of course he didn’t. “Shocking. You have bad taste in clothes and women.” She teased him with a smirk. 

“Watch it. You’re talking to a guy who helped you out for your dream date with the man you’re hopelessly in love with.” He shot back, she could hear the smug grin on his damn face.

“What? I am not!” She protested, the words coming out bitter as soon as she said it. 

“Charlie… I’ve known you almost your entire life. You think I don’t know when you’re in love with someone?” He asked her affectionately. “And for the record… He’s in love with you too.” 

Brandy didn’t respond to him. She knew he was right and she hated it. “Thanks for the dress Beau.” She told him. 

“You know…. There ain’t nothin’ wrong for lettin’ yourself love people again.” He told her gently, pausing. “Happy Birthday. I’ll talk to you later.” He told her before they hung up. 

Brandy hung up and thought about Tequila’s words. She was definitely in love with Jack. That much was clear to herself. But he was right, she was scared. Terrified that if she told him she loved him. He’d either leave her eventually or he’d die. And she didn’t know which was worse. But it was getting to the point where it was difficult to ignore her feelings for him any longer. 

Whiskey spent most of the day prepping for dinner with Brandy. He cleaned the living and dining room area and cleaned the kitchen. He then got all the ingredients out for the dinner and her birthday cupcakes and began to start everything. He started with strawberry shortcake cupcakes. So they could cool while he did everything else. Brandy was reading on the porch for the afternoon. He asked her to stay out of the kitchen so she wouldn’t spoil the surprise for herself. 

After an afternoon of Brandy reading on the porch and Whiskey cooking in the kitchen, she popped her head inside. “I’m coming in.” She told him with a shy smile. “I… I need to get ready for dinner.” She said as she bit her bottom lip, blushing as she said that. 

Whiskey glanced up at the clock and then back at her. “Well come on in then.” He teased her. “Can’t have you bein’ late, now can I?” He winked at her as she slipped back inside, kindle in hand and she disappeared into her bedroom. 

Now that she was in her bedroom, Whiskey took the opportunity to take a quick shower, he put on some cologne and went to get dressed. He had brought a suit with him for the mission in case he’d needed it. But now, the sharp, plaid suit had a new purpose tonight. Paired with a dark orange turtleneck and his classic hat and cowboy boots.

He went back out to the kitchen and dining room area to set the table and finish setting up. He even lit a couple of candles because he knew she would look incredible in the candlelight and wasn’t going to fuck that opportunity up. 

Brandy meanwhile, was in her room. She pulled on her dress, thankful that the zipper was low enough on the back to where she could reach without assistance. She didn’t want Whiskey to see her until she was ready. This was a date, with Jack. And she was determined to enjoy it. She sat down at the foot of her bed and tied off her heels that Ginger sent with the dress. They were black and strappy, studs at the toes and a satin ribbon at the ankles to tie them off with. Her hair fell in waves down her shoulders and her makeup was soft but still accentuated her features. She glanced down at the wedding ring she still wore, even though they were alone. She liked the feel of it on her hand. 

Whiskey was nervous. Brandy was the first woman he was really in love with since… Her. That’s not to say he didn’t bed the occasional woman here and there. He was a man with urges after all. But none of them really held his affections or attentions. And then Brandy came into his life and without even trying, made him fall in love with her. Now that he knew about her past with her family, her being so closed off to people getting close to her made sense. He was the same way, but Brandy…. Jesus hers was worse than his pain in his opinion. 

He was pulled out of his thoughts to the bedroom door opening. And there she was, stepping out of her room so delicately, so shyly. So unlike her, but in the best possible way. She looked fucking incredible. From those ‘fuck me’ heels, to the dress that begged for him to love her and her hair calling out for him to run his fingers through. “Ho-ly shit, sweetheart.” He drawled out to her. “You look… Fuck, you look...” 

Brandy blushed at him. “Thank you.” She whispered back as Whiskey strode over to her until he was directly in front of her. “I-... You don’t look so bad yourself cowboy.” She returned and took in how he looked. He had dressed up for her, that made her fall even more for him. “Dinner smells amazing.” 

He smiled at her, reaching to tuck her hair behind her ear. “I aim to please.” He held his arm out to her and led her over to the candlelit table where two plates were sitting. “Had to celebrate my favorite person’s birthday.” He rumbled into her ear before helping her into her seat.

#my writing #Agent Whiskey #Agent Whiskey fanfic #Agent Whiskey x OC #Pedro Pascal

[fantasiesxwritten]

Stay Strapped

“You ain’t gonna do shit, Shany! I’m fucking over you doing dirt and then trying to spin the issue around and put it on me. I have done nothing wrong except ride for you and what have you done in return? Ha. Stay fuckin’ around with the next bitch, hyping these hos’ heads up when you know good and goddamn well what it is with us. So if you wanna keep playing these games, I’m done this time.” I cut her off and served her a mouth full, not even allowing her a word in edgewise. “Maaaaan, you ain’t going nowhere, so shut all that shit up. I’m ‘bout 10 minutes away. Save all that shit talking for when I get there.” She concluded. “Nope. Won’t be no shit to talkin’. I’m done, like I told you. I’m not fighting with you anymore about this reoccuring shit. You wanna play like you’re single? Do you, my nigga.” I hung up in her face; knowing that would set the tone for World War III when she got here. She hated to be hung up on and I knew it. I threw my phone onto the bed and walked off into my bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind me. Turning on the shower, I quickly got undressed and stepped inside not giving a damn if the water had gotten hot just yet. Even after I washed my hair and did the necessary, I lingered in the shower; standing right underneath the shower head and let the water consume me. I was in no hurry to get out, because the sooner I did, was the sooner I’d have to deal with my fate. Loud bangs started in on the bathroom door, completely ruining my good feeling I was trying to achieve by staying under the hot water. “What the fuck do you want?” I shouted from in there. “I know it don’t take your ass that long to shower. Stop fuckin’ stalling and bring your ass out here!” Shany yelled from the other side of the door. I groaned to myself and ignored her, staying in there just a little while longer before I shut the shower off. Sliding the door open, I stepped out onto the bath floor mat; reaching for my towel off the rack, I wrapped it around my body tightly. I walked over to the bathroom mirror and wiped the steam that had formed there away, looking at myself. Again the banging on the door came, making me jump from the sound. “Can you fuckin’ wait?! I’m coming!” I yelled out to her while rolling my eyes. I sighed heavily and took my damn time in there, she could wait. As many nights as I waited up for her to come home, she could definitely wait for me to come out of this bathroom. I dried myself off and then wrapped the towel back around my body, finally unlocking and opening the bathroom door. I found Shany on the floor with her laptop in her lap, doing God knows what. I ignored her and walked straight over to my dresser to pull out panties and a bra. “Your mouth don’t work now?” Shany started with me. I looked back at her for a split second and shook my head at her, pulling out what I was looking for. “Nope.” I replied dryly. “So what’s the deal? You had so much shit to say before, now cat got your tongue? Ha. So typical of you.” I wanted to go straight flip mode on her ass right now, I was still not ready to deal with her and I was not in the mood to argue either. I knew she was going to provoke an argument though. She always did. “Leave me alone, aight?” I spat with my back still turned to her. I dropped my towel so I could slip into my bra and panties before I put on a pair of my small shorts that I often slept in and a black tank top. She slid her laptop out of her lap and sat it on the floor, pushing herself up to stand and address me now. “Leave you alone, huh? You sure about that?” There it was. The egotistical Shany, the one that felt like no matter what she did; I was just supposed to forgive and forget that it ever happened. “Yeah, this time I am. And where the fuck were you at anyway? I know you see what time it is.” I fired back at her, ready to go toe to toe with her. Usually I backed down and let her have her way with the argument, but not this time. I walked over to her where she stood now, I wanted to face her and hear her response this time. “Stop changing the subject. Why are you always tripping on me like I’m forever doing something wrong? Don’t I come home to you every night?” She guilt tripped me like she always did. “Huh? Ain’t you the one I lay up with, make love to, buy you this that and the third? Answer me!” She yelled, growing angrier with me not responding fast enough for her liking. “So the fuck what! That doesn’t mean shit when all your actions are so fucking calculated so that you can brainwash me into thinking that’s enough!” I shot back at her, now speaking with my hands and not just my mouth. “Chill out with all that hand shit. I told you about that..” Shany warned, stepping in closer to my face; closing the space between us. “Or what? What you gonna do?” I continued on, hand movements and all. Shany grabbed my wrists tightly in her hands, bringing them down at my side. Her grip got tighter as she clenched her teeth and jaw at me, looking me straight in my eyes. “Listen to me. I fucking love you. Stop it with all that insecure shit, aight? As sexy as you are, that shit makes you ugly.” She spoke to me through gritted teeth, like I was her kid and not her girlfriend. “No, you listen to me. Fuck all that shit you’re talking. I don’t believe it and I’m not going for it anymore.” I defended myself and shook my hands trying to free them of her strong grip. That only made her tighten it as she moved in even closer to me. Shany was so close to my face now, all I could feel was her breath against me. My chest was moving up and down faster now from pent up anger that I rarely got to let out and sexual frustration that was now toppling over that feeling and making my heart beat damn near out of my chest. I wanted to slap her and fuck her at the same time, but my body was too frozen to move for fear that the slap would come first. She finally let go of my wrists, dropping them from her grip roughly in one swift motion, she spun me around and pushed me back onto our bed making me collapse hard. I was about to sit up when Shany’s loud voice startled me back down. “Don’t you fucking move!” She raised her voice at me along with the back of her hand. “You wouldn’t fucking dare!” I challenged back, smirking at her. I knew she was all talk when it came to that, Shany had never put her hands on me other than sexually. When we sexed, anything and everything was a go. That was one of the things that had me hooked on her from the beginning; her sex game was something serious. I didn’t want to give into her right now, that meant she won once again. I wasn’t ready to hand over the victory to her. “I wouldn’t?” She asked, raising an eyebrow. I didn’t know what she had planned on doing. I watched her glare at me before going into the closet to retrieve something, I didn’t see what; she headed into the bathroom quickly and closed the door. Minutes later she came out and before I could look over to her, she hit the light switch on the wall; leaving me and her surrounded in darkness. I could hear her shuffling across the room until she reached the bed and it caved in slightly under her, climbing on it and moving closer to my body where I sat in the middle of the bed. Her hands traveled up my legs, moving up my thighs and pulling my shorts down along with my panties simultaneously. She got them off of me despite my efforts of trying to force my legs closed to prevent her from doing so. “If you fight me, Kierra; you’re only going to make it harder on yourself. Literally.” She spoke lowly as she threw my legs open and situated herself between them. When she did that, I felt something poking at me and I could only assume what it was. She sat her hands on top of my knees, while my legs stayed propped up and against the side of her body. Leaning down, she started to plant small and light kisses on my bare collarbone, sucking just a little. I lay there trying to force my mind not to enjoy her supple lips on my skin, but at the moment; I was failing in that too. She ran her hands down the top of my thighs, squeezing gently and moving in closer to my middle making my body break out in goosebumps that I knew she felt. “Mmmm, you like that shit.” She moaned against my skin, moving her kisses up to my neck now and circling her tongue on an area before she sucked; pulling my skin between her teeth. “Ahhhh.” I moaned out regretfully. “No, I don’t. I hate this shit and I hate you right now.” I spoke blatant lies to her. “Yeah?” Shany asked, not believing me. She let her fingers move into my middle more, running them over my pussy that spoke differently than my mouth. The tip of her finger slipped inside of me, probing my opening just enough. “Why you so fuckin’ wet then?” She asked. I ignored her, turning my head to the side, only giving her leverage to land more kisses; dragging her tongue up to my jawline and sucking there as well. She forced a moan out of me as two fingers roughly replaced the one that was just teasing my opening. “Mmmm shittt.” I moaned softly, grabbing onto the bed sheets instantly, gripping them in between my hands. “What I thought.” She bragged, letting her two fingers float in and out of me with ease from the wetness that had accumulated inside of me against my wishes. My body was relaxing more and more with each stroke her fingers made inside of me. She slid her fingers back out of me and ran them across my lips, covering them with my own juices. Forcing her fingers to part my lips, she slid them inside of my mouth making me suck them as she bit her bottom lip, watching me devour my juices off of her fingers. She grabbed the strap with her free hand and began rubbing the tip of it in small circles over my clit, before running it back down and teasing my opening the same way she’d done with her fingers. Pushing it in just a little and pulling it right back out, each time she’d go in, it’d be deeper than the time before it. I was still mad at her, but my pussy was fiending for her to work her magic like only she could. I knew her tactics, she wanted to hear me beg for the dick. “Baby…” I moaned out. “Stop playin’ and fuck me.” “Mmm. Say daddy.” She corrected me. Before I could let the word daddy leave my lips fully, Shany was sliding up inside of me with the entire length of the strap now, trailing her hand from my mouth to my knees using both of her hands and pushing my legs up toward my chest. “Daaaaaaddy!” I dragged out with moans that followed loudly. She wasted no time using that as motivation to drive in and out of me rough and quickly; she knew just how I liked it. I wanted to feel her touching the back of me and that’s just what she gave me. I gritted my teeth rolling my hips against her, feeling her strap running in and out of me now, everytime I pulled back she came in. We were working against each other now, in the best way possible; she was literally slamming herself into me, making my toes curl up and we had only just began. When my meager moaning wasn’t enough for her, she pulled out of me suddenly. “Turn over.” She instructed. I rolled myself over, propping my ass up in the air, backing up into her. She placed one hand on my hip and with the other guided the strap back inside of me slow at first. Her hand met with my ass hard making it jiggle as I began throwing it back on her. Shany’s other hand then gripped the other side of my waist, pulling me onto her harder and harder; slamming into me making me scream out in pleasure. “FUCKKKK BABY!” I yelled as the back of my thighs met with hers everytime I came down. I was literally bouncing on her now, while still rolling my hips. Everytime I rolled my hips a certain way, Shany moaned out lightly due to the way the strap was pressing up against her clit. I kept coming down on her hard, bouncing wildly as she gripped my hips tighter, nuzzling her face in my neck. Whispering into my ear in between moans, “Mmm. Tell me you love daddys dick inside of you.” She thrusted up inside of me harder, while I continued rolling my hips until I felt like I couldn’t anymore, I just wanted to be fucked now. “You know I love itttt.” I whined out to her as she ran her hands up my back and grabbed my hair; yanking my head back so her mouth was directly next to my ear. “I said, tell me you love daddys dick!” She snapped just above a whisper. “SHIT! I love daddys dick!” I said with feeling. What I was feeling was Shany digging relentlessly inside of me. This was what I was fiending for though. I needed this as much as she pissed me off, all of those ill feelings were fading away with each stroke she made inside of me. Pulling my hair even harder, she continued to whisper commands in my ear causing her to fuck me harder just to hear them screamed out. “NOWHEREEE!” I moaned loudly as smaller moans trailed afterwards, her picking up her speed once again; teasing the fuck out of me and sending me right back into the screaming match I was having with myself. “Where you going?!” She questioned me again, slapping my ass with her free hand, feeling it jiggle against her and moaning out from the sensation. “MMM! NOWHERE, DADDY! NOWHEREEE!” I screamed out louder, throwing it back on her even harder. “Ahhh shit. Throw that ass back, baby! Twerk that shit for daddy!” Shany said as she released the grip she had on my hair, making me collapse onto the bed somewhat. I let my hands fall flat as I grinded against her more, rolling my hips back harder and harder building up both of our orgasms. I knew mine wasn’t too far away, my stomach muscles were tightening and I could feel my blood rushing and my breathing becoming shallow. I arched my back and spread my legs as she pumped in and out of me, the sounds of our skin clapping and how wet my pussy was along with moaning and screaming is what filled the otherwise quiet room. “You gonna cum for me, babe?” Shany asked me, barely at a whisper. I knew she was ready to cum, she always asked me that to see if we were on the same page. It was rare that we didn’t cum at the same time. I bit my bottom lip hard, mumbling out to her. “Mmm, fuck yes baby. Make me cum!” As soon as I said that, she pulled out of me quickly; unhooking the strap on from around her and throwing it, not giving a fuck. She pulled my by my hips, pushing me onto my side slightly, situating herself between my legs so our pussies were right up against each other. I spread my legs wide for her as she did the same; we both began grinding harder into one another. Shany grabbed my ass in her hands, pulling me harder and harder; rolling herself against me, our clits rubbing endlessly and both of us feeling shockwaves shoot through our bodies from our matching piercings down there touching. “Yessss yessss oh my fuckin’ God, yessss!” I moaned out, thrusting into her harder and faster, feeling my orgasm creeping up faster. “Mmmm, shit baby! Cum for me, cum for me..” Shany repeated herself through moans, her moaning sparking something within me. We both grinded our hardest as I felt my orgasm wash over me, grabbing the side of the mattress as I never slowed down my thrusts against her. Shany followed right behind me, making me bounce on me, while still rolling into me; out clits sliding off of each other, both of us wetter than we have ever been and only growing wetter. Our moans filled the room as we came together, my legs shaking against her thighs and her digging her nails into me. I grabbed onto her tightly as my orgasm began to hit its calming point, hers doing the same. Once I felt like I had regained control of my own body, I pulled her onto me; still letting her rest between my legs. I collapsed my lips into hers, kissing her bottom lip softly before sucking on it. Shany returned my kiss, nibbling on my top lip and sliding her tongue playfully across it. Both of our bodies covered lightly in sweat, I leaned up to peck her lips once more. This right here and what took place prior is the precise reason why she kept winning with me. All she had to do was aggressively take control, which she always did and all else was forgotten about. I closed my eyes with her resting on top of me comfortably as I thought about my plan of action for the next time. This was going to be the last time she fucked me and controlled the situation; next time we were trading places and I was going to remind her why she really fell in love with me in the first place.

Author | Kierra Posted | June 2012

#fantasiesxwritten #original story #lesbians #lesbian main character #lgbtq #lgbtq smut #smut

[nialledfromfics]

Chapter Five - Dream Lover

(make sure you click the link in the title for an instant musical throwback ~ enjoy!)

The following three weeks had passed by quickly for Vivian. The weather had grown increasingly warmer and her eighteenth birthday was approaching–only a few days away–and with spending every free moment with Niall that she could, really, the girl had never been happier. They had dates at the drive-in, went for sodas at Betty’s, spent a fun evening at the county fair in the next town over, and on one wicked hot afternoon, found themselves at Vivian’s favorite secluded spot: Big Oak Pond.

It was a small swimming hole, tucked up a ways on some lush land that Vivian’s family owned. Giving the spot its moniker all by herself, it was a special place she had gone to since she was a child; spending the dog days of summer keeping cool in the water and swinging from the rope that was tied to the big oak tree right on the bank. No one knew a thing about it. She had kept it a secret from everyone in her life, even her best friends, not wanting to share her serene and magical little place with anyone.

Until Niall.

Camped out on a picnic blanket, Vivian had brought Niall up to Big Oak Pond only a couple of times, once when they were on their way to the fair just to show him her secret place, and another to watch the sunset one evening after having some ice cream at Sunday’s. But there they were, on a scorching late Wednesday afternoon having just finished up a nice packed meal that Vivian had made for them. She had decided to pick him up at the shop after school let out, Niall asking Phil who kindly let him take the rest of the evening off. It was very nice of him, but Phil knew how hard Niall worked. He also knew who Vivian was, or more importantly, who her father was and he would do anything to keep things pleasant.

Niall was leaned back on his palms with Vivian nestled snugly in between his bent up legs. Her back was laying against his front, clad in only a white tank as his dirty work shirt had been removed and lay crumpled beside them, and her arms were hooked over his thighs. They quietly watched a few of the roaming ducks float around the dank colored water as they sat, a refreshing light breeze whizzing around them.

Vivian closed her eyes, a little contented hum easing past her lips as she counted the padder of Niall’s heart thumping against the back of her neck. She felt like she was in heaven like that with him. With her head resting on his chest, Niall tipped his chin down and nuzzled his nose into her hair, taking in a tiny breath. She smelled so pretty, like a field of blooming wildflowers. Vivian felt the adoring gesture and turned her face to look up at him. He smiled at her, his heavy gaze swarming over hers before he leaned in to press a soft kiss to her lips. He would never love anything as much as he loved kissing her. She was so gentle and kind, every ounce of her better than the last. Niall knew he was the luckiest fella on the planet and being there with her–Vivian cradled against him, her tender kisses on his lips–he was sure he would never take her for granted and always do everything to keep her safe.

She was the only girl he had ever felt that way about.

“This is my favorite place on earth,” the young woman sighed out as she turned her attention back to the bathing ducks in the middle of the pond. She rubbed her palms against the outside of Niall’s knees, oblivious to the days-old grease splattered on his jeans. “And now I get to share it with my favorite person.”

Niall chuckled, pushing a kiss to her temple before he reached up to gently card his fingers through the side of her flowing hair, brushing it from her face. It made Vivian’s eyes flutter. “Guess that makes it my favorite place now too, eh?”

“But of course,” Vivian agreed with a sheepish giggle.

There was another moment of peaceful quiet before Vivian turned her head slightly towards him again, Niall’s fingers stalling at the ends of her hair. “Niall, can I ask ya somethin’?”

His mouth turned down at the corners. “Sure, love.”

Vivian sat herself up from her place on Niall’s chest and shifted her body around to face him, crossing her legs underneath her. She was wearing a pair of baby pink shorts and a white flowy summer blouse, her sandals having long been taken off and sitting at the corner of the patchwork quilt. Her hands were wringing in her lap, something Niall had taken notice of, and Vivian wasn’t even sure why she was nervous; really there was no reason for her to be. Maybe it was the question she was about to ask, maybe it was because she had waited so long to ask it, but either way, there was a slight apprehension inside her that wasn’t sure what his answer would be.

“So, you know my birthday is comin’ up, this Saturday in fact,” she started, looking over at him, “and well, I’m havin’ a party at my house. It’s a huge event, everyone’s gonna be there...and I was wonderin’, well, I’d like it if...maybe, you’d come.”

Clicking his jaw to the side, Niall’s blue eyes narrowed slightly and a lopsided smirk tugged at his lips. She knew in that instant that her worry was for nothing. “You invitin’ me to your party?”

Vivian nodded her head, her soft waves of light brown hair bouncing against her shoulders. “Yeah...but if it’s too much–”

“I’d be honored,” he said, cutting her off. Niall reached out to gently cup his hand around her upper arm, giving it a little squeeze. Vivian had no idea why she had been so nervous asking him, or why she had waited so long to do it. Maybe for the fact that in the back of her mind, she was afraid he wouldn’t still be with her by the time her party arrived…

“Great!” she exclaimed, hunching her shoulders in an excited laugh. “Its really gonna be a gas, I just know it. You can meet all my friends, and…well, and my parents too.”

Niall sat himself all the way up, grabbing a cigarette out of the pack that laid on the blanket beside him and lit one up. Taking a puff, he blew the smoke out above their heads. “So, your parents know about me?” he asked.

Tucking her knees up to her chest, Vivian peeked up at the sky, watching the clouds roll by overhead. “My momma does. Sorta.”

“What’s that mean?”

Vivian shrugged. “I dunno, just means I told her about you once, but…”

“But your old man…”

Niall locked his eyes with Vivian’s. “Daddy still doesn’t know.”

“Viv!” Niall groaned.

“I’m gonna tell him, okay? I’m gonna, I swear it.”

Niall shook his head. “We talked ‘bout this, Viv, last week at the fair, you said you were gonna tell him.”

“I know,” she said, peering down at her lap, “and I will. I just gotta find the right time, is all.”

Niall pushed out a huff. Plucking the cigarette from between his lips, he leaned forward and reached out with his other hand, hooking a finger under Vivian’s chin to bring her enticing green eyes to his. “I’m serious ‘bout you, Viv. More serious than anythin’ in me life. I don’t want us to be a secret no more, it was alright in the beginnin’, when things were–… well, new and all, but I wanna tell the world ‘bout us. I want your parents to be okay with me, with us bein’ together.”

Vivian’s lips tugged into a smile. “Me too.”

“And it can’t be okay, if they don’t even know.” She nodded and Niall scratched his nails through the scruff on his jaw. “So, uh, who else is gonna be at this party, anyhow? Anyone I know?”

It was subtle, but not subtle enough that Vivian wasn’t quick to catch on to what he was referring to. Cliff. To be perfectly honest, she hadn’t even thought about Cliff and the guys being at her party, or how Niall would deal with being in the same room with them. She should have, but just the thought of making sure Niall would attend was the only thing that had been on her mind. Her green eyes shifted down his rugged features. “I…” she paused.

Niall wrinkled his brow slightly as he took another puff of his cigarette, aware of what she was thinking. He wasn’t trying to put her on the spot, or make her choose, it was her party after all and she had the right to invite whomever she wanted, but he really hated them fellas. For Vivian though, he would make the best of any situation. He would do anything to make her happy. “Ya know what, don’t worry ‘bout it, love, it’s fine.”

“No...no, Niall, I’ll take care of it, I promise. I don’t want any of ‘em there anyway.” Vivian shook her head. “The only person I care about bein’ at my party,...is you.”

A hint of a smirk cracked across Niall’s lips before his face fell and he dropped his stare. “There’s somethin’ I gotta be honest with you about, concernin’ them guys. Somethin’ I never told ya.”

Furrowing her brows at his unexpected statement, she watched as Niall took one last long drag of his cigarette and flicked the end into the grass by the edge of the water. What could he possibly mean by that? Licking over his lips, Niall wiped the sweat off of his forehead then ran his fingers through his slicked back hair and glanced up to the old oak tree that was next to them. His stare shifted between the strings of branches dotted with green leaves, and it reminded him of the piercing color of Vivian’s eyes, and he looked back over to the beautiful girl sitting before him. He could see the frightened look on her face. He definitely didn’t want to frighten her, and that was precisely the reason he had chosen not to speak up about that particular situation in the first place.

“That first night we went to the drive-in,” he began, resting his forearms on the tops of his bent up knees and locking his hands together, “our first date? I kinda ran into Cliff and them candyasses up at the snack bar.”

Vivian’s mind jarred back to that very night, quickly remembering how out of sorts Niall had acted when he came back with the popcorn and soda. She darted her eyes over his. “So that’s what was wrong with ya, why didn’t ya say somethin’?”

“I didn’t wanna ruin the night,” he confessed, faintly shrugging a shoulder, “you looked so pretty and I just wanted to be there with ya.”

Tipping her head to the side, Vivian reached out and wrapped her hand around the top of Niall’s. “What happened?”

“They cornered me, roughed me up a bit, told me to stay clear of ya, and if I didn’t there’d be hell to pay…”

Niall swallowed hard before he finished. “Cliff said he’d kill me if I didn’t leave ya alone.”

Vivian shook her head and dropped her stare to the blanket. “He didn’t mean that,” she whispered, almost unsure of the words coming out of her own mouth. She had no idea what Cliff was capable of, but that was a foolish empty threat. It had to be.

“It sure didn’t feel that way,” Niall mumbled.

There was a fire raging in her at the single thought of what Cliff and the others had done to Niall, threatening his life in that way. It just wasn’t fair how they treated him. And she knew everything that had happened over the past month; the fight, the threats and gossipy whispers and rotten looks, it had all been her fault. Niall sensed the disturbing thoughts swirling in Vivian’s mind and he tried to reassure her. “Look, it’s all fine now, ya know? He got the fight he was lookin’ for, he won’t be botherin’ us no more. It’s done.”

“It’s never done with Cliff,” she gently warned him. “I’m so sorry, Niall, I feel like everythin’ that’s happened to ya, all of it is my fault.”

“That’s not true, not at all. And ya know I would do anythin’ for you,” Niall commented.

Vivian pulled in a shallow breath, biting at her bottom lip. “I know. And I know its hard for you bein’ in this town, here with all these people that look at you like ya don’t belong, but...you do belong. I need ya to know that. I just don’t want you feelin’ like you...gotta stay...for me or somethin’…”

With his face pulling in, Niall huffed out a breath. He was beside himself. He never wanted Vivian to feel like he didn’t want to be there. That he didn’t want to be there with her. “Viv, baby, you are the only reason I gotta stay,” he said, reaching out to cradle her cheek in his hand. He leaned in and pushed a kiss to her lips.

Her eyes fell closed in contentment, his lips moving softly over hers and she was nearly breathless by the time he pulled away. Vivian rested her forehead to his. “I never want you to leave,” she whispered.

Niall rubbed his thumb across the apple of her cheek just as Vivian inched back to look at him. “At least not without me.”

****

Vivian always loved her drives home from town at night. The roads, quiet and isolated, winding through the trees and the glare of the full summer moon shining bright through the dark night, almost enough that she didn’t even have to use her headlights. It was a time for her to be alone with her thoughts, which for the past month had been over run with only one thing–Niall. She would daydream about the heat of his mouth on hers when he kissed her and the way his fingers felt delicately brushing through her hair. The way his skin smelled on a particularly balmy afternoon, or the way his blue eyes gleamed with affection every time his stare caught hers.

The thoughts always brought a smile to her lips, and that night was no different. After their little impromptu dinner picnic at the pond, Niall jumped into the water to cool off and then preceded to get Vivian all wet when he got out and smothered her with a million kisses before they both ended up falling asleep. Curled up on Vivian’s grandmother’s patchwork quilt and wrapped in each others arms, it was nearly midnight by the time Niall awoke, and he gently shook Viv’s shoulder to wake her. She was sure her father would have an absolute conniption if she were to come in that late, especially being the second time that week, so they rushed to clean everything up and drop Niall back off at the shop before Viv headed home.

She could see the lights leading the way up the long drive to the Manor as she passed through the main wrought iron gate, which had been conveniently left open. Vivian knew that it was far too late for her to be arriving home, way past her curfew as she circled around the water fountain that sat in the middle of the drive. Parking her car, Vivian grabbed her handbag from the front seat as she got out before hurrying up the steps of her front porch. She prayed to herself that her father had already long gone to bed, it would be easier for her to sneak up to her bedroom and go unnoticed if so, and she slowly unlocked the large front door and tiptoed through.

Her sandals had barely made contact with the marble floor of the foyer when she heard a sound come from her father’s study. Vivian paused, afraid to make even the slightest movement in hopes that maybe he hadn’t really noticed her come in and she could still have a chance to sneak upstairs. No such luck. The young woman heard her father clear his throat again, a distinctive sound she was all too familiar with, and she let out a sigh, dropping her arms down by her sides in defeat. Walking across the open foyer to the study just at her left, Vivian carefully eased herself into the room through the half-open door.

Her father had yet to even look up at her, just stared down at some papers that were scattered on top of his elaborately carved mahogany desk with a tobacco pipe pinched tight between his lips. Her green eyes slid up the bookcase enslaved walls, hundreds upon hundreds of books lining the shelves, as she squeezed her fingertips over the leather flap of her handbag that she held in front of her. “So, how was your night?”

He had finally spoken to her. And his brisk tone was very much evident to how the conversation was going to go. She shot her stare over to her father, not surprised to see that he was still very much looking down at the papers strewn about his desk. “Um…g-good,” Vivian stuttered. So much for trying to keep her cool. She flicked her eyes about, scraping her teeth along her bottom lip, wanting nothing more than to finish whatever the interaction was and get out of that room. “Okay, well, goodnight.”

“Vivian.”

She had already spun around to leave, but wasn’t quite fast enough. Taking in a deep breath, Vivian turned back to face her father. He was looking right at her that time, his pipe now held in his hand. “I don’t approve of you comin’ in at all hours of the night, young lady. You know the rules of this house.”

“Yes, father,” Vivian answered, swallowing hard. It felt like a billion degrees in that room.

He dipped his head down slightly, raising his brow at her. “Is there something you need to tell me?”

Vivian vehemently shook her head. Did he know something? Did he know about Niall? Vivian thought, had momma told him I was goin’ steady with someone? “N-no,” she replied again when he didn’t budge, her voice cracking slightly.

Rolling his lips into his mouth, her father lifted up his chin, his stare still locked firm on his daughter as he began to step around to the front of his desk. “You wouldn’t be lyin’ to me now, would you?”

She could feel her heart galloping in her chest like a thousand horses running a race against her ribcage. There was no way she could tell him about Niall at that moment, he would know that she had been with him all night. Vivian shook her head again. “No, daddy.”

“Alright, I expect you to remember the curfew from now on,” he said, giving her a nod. “Goodnight.”

Letting out a sigh of relief at his retreat, Vivian smiled at her father. “Okay,” she said, rushing over to place a kiss on his cheek. “Goodnight, daddy.” She hurried out of the room, closing the door behind her before clambering up the elegant winding staircase to the second floor. Twisting around the bannisters and down the long hallway, she finally made it to her bedroom. Wasting no time, Vivian kicked off her shoes and grabbed the pink rotary telephone off of the nightstand, plopping down on her stomach onto her bed.

She had to call Cherry.

Swinging her bare feet up behind her, Vivian grabbed the handset off the cradle and began to dial her best friend. The dial clicked and spun after every number and Vivian propped up on her elbows, holding the handset between her ear and shoulder as it rang. Cherry answered after the third ring and Vivian barely gave her time to say hello before she was delving into the details of her and Niall’s evening together. Her fingers twiddled with the spring cord as she talked–telling the giggly girl on the other end of the wet kisses shared and the way his body had wrapped around hers as they drifted off to sleep.

“So, ya didn’t go all the way?” Cherry asked, subtlety never her forte.

Vivian rolled her eyes up to the frilly canopy top of her bed. “No, of course not. He hasn’t even tried.”

Cherry smacked her gum in her mouth as she thought, the sound like an irritating punch to Vivian’s ear. “He’s not tried nothin’? Not even a hand up your skirt?”

“Oh God, no!”

The girl laughed. “You’re so funny, Viv. But I am surprised, I’d thought he would’ve at least gotten to second base by now.”

“Not every girl needs to go to second base. Or any other bases for that matter.”

“But why not? Feelin’ ‘em slide into home is loads of fun.”

“Cherry!” Vivian giggled at her friend’s vulgar joke, a blush spilling over her cheeks as she dipped her face down against her bed. “You’re so bad!”

Cherry laughed and Vivian took in a shallow breath to brace herself. “Hey Cher?”

“Yeah?”

“...can I ask ya a favor?”

She heard the rustling of magazine pages being flipped on the other end of the phone before Cherry replied. “Yeah, sure.”

“Do you mind tellin’ Cliff and the other guys that...they can’t come to my party on Saturday?”

“What...why’s that?”

Vivian bit at her lip, her feet swinging back and forth behind her as she picked at the plastic covering of the phone base with her fingernail. “Well, I invited Niall to the party, and with everythin’ that happened with Cliff, I just thought…it would be better if they weren’t there. I mean, I know I had invited them a while back, before I even met Niall, but...I just don’t want there to be any trouble, that’s all.”

There was a staticy silence coming from the line, almost as if Cherry had hung up the phone. “And...we both know how Cliff is, and if he gets the other boys involved, it will be a mess.”

Cherry let out a sigh. “Yeah, I guess I could tell him. I’m not sure how much he’s gonna listen to me though–”

“He’d listen to you better than he’d listen to me right now,” Vivian cut in, “I just...I can’t even bother to look at him, let alone say two words to him.”

“Yeah, I understand.”

Vivian smiled. “Thanks, Cher, I appreciate it. You really are the bees knees.”

****

Vivian awoke that Saturday morning, an excitement already buzzing over her skin as she stretched the sleep away under her blankets with a yawn. She was turning eighteen that night, and there was to be a huge party in her honor. She almost couldn’t believe that the day had finally arrived. Between her and her mother, they had been planning the event for the past six months, and now, it was only mere hours away. And despite all the planning, the one thing she was the most excited about was having Niall there. Excited, and incredibly nervous. She had yet to tell her father of them, that he even existed, but hoped that in meeting Niall it would immediately sequester all the preconceived notions that she knew he would think if he had a heads up about him. She figured if her father could just get to know him–the real him, not the town gossipy version of him–that he would grow to like him just as much as Vivian did.

It was a shot in the dark, she knew that, but it was the only shot she had.

Sitting up in her canopy bed, Vivian pushed the fallen hair from her face and glanced around her brightly-lit bedroom. Baby pink walls and frilly lace curtains. Her white furniture, ornate and trimmed with gold accents and delicate little flowers. She had shelves lined with books and trinkets and small treasures. Mostly ballerina and horse themed items, but a few things that were really special to her. Not much had changed since she was little. It never had bothered her before, but seeing as she was about to turn eighteen, seeing as she was to become a woman, it all seemed a bit...childish when she really took the time to look.

Vivian shrugged her shoulder in a small hum as she lifted her covers to slide her legs off the edge of the mattress. Hoisting herself up out of her bed, she let the long hem of her silk nightgown fall to her knees before she walked over to her closet, sifting through what she wanted to wear that day. Her green eyes gleamed as she peeked over at the back of the one closet door to see the beautiful gown that she had picked out weeks before to wear to her party. It was by far the most gorgeous dress she had ever seen, and she tipped her head to the side and reached over to gently stroke her fingertips across the satin bodice. She hoped that Niall would love it just as much as she did.

The weather had finally grown increasingly hot, sticky and humid, and even though it was only early summer, it was almost insufferable. Vivian decided on a pair of white cotton pressed shorts and lime green button up top, slipping a pair of sandals on her feet and a white headband in her hair. She could smell the bacon and hash browns that had been cooked up for breakfast as she made her way down the winding staircase to the dining room. The familiar smell wafted through the halls and seeped under the doorways, and it would always be something that stuck with her. There was nothing like a good southern breakfast after all.

Stepping into the large room, she was met with her parents already sat in their proper places at the long oak dining table, her father at the end and her mother just to his left. Her mother was sipping a cup of tea and her father was preoccupied with reading the paper, his pipe hanging from his mouth. Her mother looked up as the young woman entered. “Momma...daddy,” she kindly greeted.

Her mother flashed her a sweet smile. “Mornin’, darling.”

“Mornin’, mother.” Vivian politely smiled back as she shuffled over to her chair, which was right next to her mother. Tucking a few pieces of hair behind her ear, she sat down and let her eyes scan the delectable spread before her. Bacon, sausage, eggs, hash browns, biscuits, toast, gravy–all laid out in dishes in the middle of the table. You name it, it was there. Grasping the ice-cold pitcher of orange juice, Vivian poured herself a glass and then plucked a biscuit from the silver tray.

“So, I was kinda thinkin’,” she started, smattering butter and peach jam onto the split biscuit, “maybe we could fix up my room a bit, ya know, since I’m older now?”

Her mother looked over at her and gave her a nod. “I think that’s a swell idea, don’t you, Thomas?”

All eyes shot over to Vivian’s father, who had yet to register that his daughter had even walked into the room. “Whatever you want, Vivian,” he mumbled, clearing his throat a bit as he put down his pipe to take a sip of coffee and flip the page of the newspaper.

Vivian’s mother threw her another bright smile, her blue eyes washing over her daughter’s face. “Are you excited for your party tonight, dear?” she said, daintily having a bite of her eggs.

Letting out a small squeal, which caused her father to peek over at her, Vivian bounced in her seat. “I’m thrilled, momma. Absolutely thrilled,” she told her, picking up her glass to take a sip of juice.

“That’s wonderful,” her mother commented, tapping the corner of her napkin across her painted lips. “Oh, I wanted to ask, did you ever invite that boy to your party? The one you told me about?”

Nearly choking on her juice, Vivian’s eyes went big as she forced herself to swallow the tart liquid, a dribbled slipping down her chin. She reached up to wipe it away with the pads of her fingers and reluctantly caught the incredulous stare of her father. “Boy?” he bellowed, his voice seeming to have gone an octave deeper, “What boy?”

Vivian didn’t know what to do, what to say. She couldn’t tell him yet, it wasn’t the right time. So instead, she just gingerly shook her head. “He’s just a friend, daddy.”

“A friend?” her mother innocently questioned, looking over at her daughter with a wrinkled brow. “Why, I thought you said–”

“Daddy, were you able to get that band to come like I wanted?” It was a very blatant attempt at averting the subject, and Vivian’s heart was pounding as she kept her stare down at her plate. She quickly picked up her jellied biscuit to take a bite. A distracting mouthful of a bite.

Setting down his paper, her father furrowed his brow over at his daughter and picked up his mug to take a long sip of his coffee. Her mother, puzzled at the exchange, glanced between the two of them as she slowly became aware of the growing tension that was wavering up in the room. It wasn’t another moment before she realized what was going on. “Oh yes,” she began, flicking her pointer finger around as she spoke, “that band–the one that plays that rock and roll music that she likes!” She was hoping she could diffuse the awkward situation that she had unintentionally created.

Her father licked over his lips and set down his coffee cup, grabbing the paper and cracking it open with a flick of his wrists. “Even better, I was able to get the Simon Quartet.”

“A string band?” her mother whined, sitting back in her chair and sipping on her tea, “Oh, Thomas…”

He peered overtop the newspaper at her. “I thought it would be classy, Helen.”

“As long as they can play some music from this century, it shouldn’t be any bother,” Vivian said with a shaken giggle, tossing up her hands. God, she hoped this would appease him to not ask anymore questions about Niall.

Folding the paper out of his way, her father leaned forward on his elbows. His green eyes were on his daughter, searching her face. Vivian didn’t know what for though. “So, about this boy–”

“Mmm!” her mother spit out, clinking her cup back down to its saucer and pushing up from her chair. Vivian peeked up to meet her stare. “We have so much to get done today for the party. Busy, busy, busy!”

Flicking her eyes to her father, Vivian hurriedly took one more bite of her biscuit as her mother tapped at her upper arm to hurry her along. “C’mon, dear, let’s get going!”

Vivian slid her chair out and clambered to her feet, taking a sip of her juice to wash down the dense biscuit before waving goodbye to her father. He watched without a word as both ladies walked out of the room, Vivian diligently following her mother. The woman’s heels clicked across the marble floor of the foyer as she grabbed her sunhat, gloves and handbag from their butler, who was standing there waiting.

The two giggled like happy school children as they walked out of the front door, and Vivian’s father let out a huff as he shook his head in amusement, naturally going back to his daily newspaper and smoking pipe.

#niall #niall horan #niall fic #niall fanfic #niall au #au #forbidden love #greaser niall #ttwy #chapter 5 #loved writing this one! #hope you guys enjoy :) #please share and let me know what you think!!! #thank you!

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Ridkulus Pt 14

Pt 1 - Pt 2 - Pt 3 - Pt 4 - Pt 5 - Pt 6 - Pt 7 - Pt 8 - Pt 9 - Pt 10 - Pt 11 - Pt 12 -  Pt 13 -

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…

Alone you woke in Thranduil’s bed squinting up at the wall of windows casting the sunrise on you. Heavily you sat up and eased your legs back thinking of the clothes you wanted to wear today. The simple note reading, ‘Sleep, Dearest’ sat on the night stand under a single daisy. Obviously they had both been called away leaving you to crawl across the bed eyeing the jeans, tank top and flannel sitting there. Wetting your lips you pulled off your dress and tights adding the fresh panties, and layers over them. A wave of your fingers later the old clothes were sent to your hamper while your heeled boots were swapped with your worn converse. On your feet you sighed and walked to the door trying to remember your way around while undoing your braided bun from the night before to free your curls across your shoulder.

In a dizzying path while munching on an orange you zapped from home, you found yourself in the middle of a garden leading into a small field fading into the line of trees. Groaning lowly you turned again trying to see if you could spot the correct path only to freeze at the Giant Elk staring at you sniffing at the last piece of fruit in your palm. After a glance down you held out your palm asking, “Do you like oranges?”

Calmly it walked to you and claimed the orange, eating it happily while peering down at you in your inspection of him. When his lips settled again you asked raising your hand timidly, “Do you always wander through here?”

Without expecting an answer you eyed his snout shifting to tap your palm aiding your contact with him after sensing your reluctance to do so. Softly his mind tapped to yours to say, “The stables are just beyond those trees.”

Your lips parted and you asked softly, “You can talk. Can all the Elk here talk?”

An amused glimmer flashed in his eyes when your hair flickered to a pale orange then back again, “All animals speak, the trees and brooks as well, for those who listen. Do your animals not speak?”

“Um, our animals are different than this world’s. We did have Elk, but I never saw one myself to find out. I don’t think they did.”

“Did you master horses then for your travels?”

You shook your head, “No, never saw one up close till we arrived in Rivendell few months back.” Steadily his breath deepened as he blinked at you watching your awed smile and gentle strokes along the ridge of his face between glances at his antlers.

Taking in another breath he turned to his side gently nudging you with his snout, “I am Tuo. Come, we will run.” With a confused nod you joined him on the walk peering up at the antlers over your head on the Elk you barely reached the shoulders to flat footed. Not far past the trees you eyed the massive stables with a few Elves inside leaving for their latest round of duties leaving you alone. The last opening on the right bore a crown etched into the door with a saddle and bridle on the rack inside.

In the doorway you paused eyeing the equipment only to turn hearing Legolas asking cheerfully, “Taking Tuo out?”

“Um, Tuo offered to take me, running.”

Legolas smirked then eyed your timid stance beside the Elk and chuckled, “Have you ridden before?”

You shook your head, “Haven’t even seen an Elk before.”

Legolas nodded shifting behind you stating, “I will assist in dressing you then Tuo, if you would agree?” He smiled as the Elk bobbed his head before he peered at you saying, “Tuo rarely lets anyone but Ada take him out, let alone dress him.”

“Oh.”

Tuo eyed you and tapped your cheek with his snout, “I am fond of you little Queenie.”

“I am fond of you too, Tuo.” You replied slowly making Legolas grin through securing the bridle and turning to claim the saddle he eased over Tuo’s back before securing it and raised the stirrups higher.

Beside you he stated, “I’ll just be a moment, Nara is already saddled, just have to get her bridle on, if she has finished eating…” Walking out he left your sight with a turn to the left leaving Tuo to guide you out again and through the large door opposite the one you had entered leading into an open path between the trees. Wetting your lips you turned hearing Legolas walking up behind you with reigns to a white mare in his hand on the short distance to you his smirk returned at your glance back to the stirrup sitting nearly to your ribs, far from a possible location to reach on your own.

Releasing his horse’s reigns he stated, “Alright, the easiest way is put your hands up on the saddle you nodded reaching up. In the distance you heard a distant chuckle from an Elleth inside the stables. Behind you, you heard Legolas’ soft warning before his hands planted on your hips lifting you up. He watched ensuring your foot was in the stirrup before helping you guide your leg over Tuo’s back, the Prince’s signal for letting go of you. He grinned up at you and turned to climb on Nara’s saddle before glancing at you again while pulling up beside you showing you how to hold the reigns. Another timid nod later he stated, “Just relax, Tuo would not allow you to be harmed.”

A steady inhale from you later you felt your fingers fold more around the reigns in your palm when Tuo began the walk out to the open fields between circles of trees marking each level of the kingdom’s borders. Steadily when you cleared the trees he picked up speed peeking back at you every so often and relaxing at your growing grin that only widened when a herd of Elk grazing nearby joined in on your run starting a bout of races. At high speeds you made yet another darting loop through the outer circle in a race with the other stags in the herd far smaller than Tuo, he named as his Nephews’ Sons.

The race succeeded in distracting you from spotting the line of Elves returning from guard duty watching how easily you had taken to the startlingly near unbearable speeds even the King couldn’t bear for long. The King especially grinned catching your trailing giggles in your next loop past them as he walked into the field. Another loop later the herd slowed and broke as Legolas caught up finally, stopping as you did, only to chuckle at your gripping the knot on the saddle to keep from sliding into it while your hair flew over your face.

In a reach up you brushed your hair back and weakly chuckled as the King asked, “How in Arda did you manage to convince Tuo to allow you dress and mount him?”

Softly you stated, “He offered.”

Thranduil raised a brow and Legolas added, “Tuo allowed me to dress him.”

Thranduil peered up at you, “I didn’t know how to.”

He nodded then peered at Tuo gently stroking the ridge of his nose hearing him say, “Little Queenie was frightened of me. They have only silent Elk in her former lands. All of whom hid from her, same as their horses.”

His eyes rose to meet yours as you said, “Glori mentioned the trees talk but no one said the animals talked too!” Thranduil chuckled again moving to Tuo’s side shifting your foot making you swallow dryly through your nervous rippling hair color when his hand planted on the knot as his foot settled in the stirrup he had lowered, only to chuckle at your mumbling, “Show off.”

A tightening of his hand later he rose up to sit on the back dip on the saddle accepting use of the second stirrup when your foot left it, shifting it lower with a slide of the toe of his boot against the securing buckle. In a glance over your shoulder he accepted the reigns from you pressing a gentle peck on your cheek saying, “You have not eaten I presume?”

You shook your head, “I had an orange earlier. Is it late?”

He eased his free arm around your middle helping you adjust back after your sliding stop forward, “No. You have not been out an hour yet according to my guards, the table should be set by the time we get back.”

You nodded and leaned back against his chest in the steady trot back to the Palace, “You’re going to have to help me down, I hope you know that.”

Thranduil chuckled replying, “I will add spare straps to help you climb up in the future so you may ride unassisted.”

“I probably won’t ride very often unless you bring me.”

A turn of Tuo’s head made Thranduil chuckle and state, “Tuo demands several runs a week at least. He will be expecting you to share them with me from now on.”

“What if you need him? I can’t just-,”

“Tuo decides who runs with him. It is quite an honor for a steed to claim you, especially an Elk at that. And when we will both ride no doubt Thengel will gift you one of his finest.”

“Finest-, he’s going to give me a horse?!”

“Steeds from Rohan are greatly prized, a traditional gift for new Royals introduced to the King.”

“Still, I’ve never even ridden let alone pet a horse, I have no clue how to take care of one. I’m sure, we have books-…”

Thranduil reached forward turning your head to kiss you silencing your ramble, then lowly stated inches from you lips, “Leave all that to me.”

“But it’s a horse!”

He chuckled then asked, “What sort of horse did you want?”

“Um..”

Legolas, “Any preference in appearance?”

“Ooh, Chocolate silver dapple pinto’s are gorgeous. I always liked freckled ones.”

Thranduil smirked asking, “Freckled?”

“You’ve, no you haven’t seen Buckbeak. Um, grey with white and black and spots.”

Legolas, “I do not remember seeing any horses of that description in their lands.”

“Oh.”

Thranduil asked, “They do have white and black painted ones occasionally. While you eat, if you would not mind sending the doorway I will manage their gift and decision.”

“It really-.” His lips planted on your cheek again before your head tilted to meet his gaze over your shoulder.

“It is your birthday. I will ensure you are gifted the best they have to offer.”

“A blanket or socks would also be an acceptable gift.”

He gave you a playful glare, “If you are in need of any Glorfindel and I will be handling those.”

You rolled your eyes and Legolas chuckled saying, “King Thengel will be insisting as well. Horses are the finest they have to offer, he will be aiming to impress over the Gondorian’s gift.”

Inhaling sharply you asked, “What will they be giving me?”

Legolas, “Most likely a fur lined robe, their specialty.”

Blinking a few times you asked, “Like Thorin’s?”

Thranduil, “Theirs is usually finer fur. Dwarves tend to stick to wolf and bear fur, Ecthellion has a full stock of fine fox furs. They prefer silvers and black shades secured by jeweled broaches.”

“You do realize I’m still a teacher? I don’t know when I’ll be able to wear furs.”

Thranduil chuckled, “We will ensure there are plenty of occasions for you to enjoy them.”

A soft sigh left you as you walked up to the stables and eyed the Elves bowing their heads to the three of you. Easily Thranduil gripped the knot in front of you and dismounted, leaving another peck on your cheek before resting his hand on your thigh saying, “Swing your right leg over towards me.”

Legolas hopped down standing behind you smiling up at you when you glanced back, uncertain if you’d fall off the smooth saddle. You wet your lips shifting your leg then peered down at the King and his gentle smile through helping you down, after a moment his hands left your hips and he asked, “Would you mind showing me the horse breed you named as gorgeous?” You nodded and tapped his mind showing him the freckled grey and white horse with a long mane and tail matching the feathered fur around its ankles, bearing white spots shaped like stars in its grey coat parting his lips, “It is gorgeous. I will do what I can to find one similar.”

“Really-.” He smiled down at you claiming your hand to guide you inside the stable along with Tuo. Inside his stall you eyed Tuo and stroked his neck asking, “Your neck isn’t sore?”

Deeply he chuckled replying with what seemed to be a smile in his eyes, “No little Queenie, my antlers do not trouble me. Thank you for considering my pain after our run. No matter what steed the Men choose for you I will ensure it honors you fully and understands I have claimed you as well.”

When his saddle and bridle were removed he stroked your cheek with his snout earning a giggle from you then trotted off to have his own meal while you were being guided to join your own.

.

Outside the double doors for the dining hall you called for the enchanted doorway Thranduil passed through leaving you to Legolas’ care, pausing only for a moment as you passed him a Pheonix Phable stating, “For the one I punched.” He nodded and turned with a deepening smile.

An easy grin grew on Glorfindel’s face when he spotted you, drawing him to his feet to help you into your chair and claim a kiss on your cheek asking, “Did you enjoy your ride? We spotted you earlier.”

You nodded, “Yes, I was surprised an Elk as large as Tuo could race that fast.”

Glorfindel chuckled, “Well, I am certain with someone Thorin’s weight would slow him considerably. We barely weigh anything at all.”

You nodded then glanced at Legolas asking, “Why did he keep calling me little Queenie?”

Legolas chuckled, “It is a claiming of you as his, he is King of the Steeds even without him claiming Ada, for him to call you little merely points to his affection for you. Our young are referred to as little ones, you are his little Queenie. Queenie is their way of saying Princess, they find the term, lacking, I believe was his Father’s expression for it.”

Your head turned and you eyed the young twins peering up at you smiling when you smiled at them to ask, “Did you sleep well?”

Both, “We did not sleep.”

Glorfindel stated, “Our young do not sleep each night occasionally. It is perfectly normal.”

You nodded trying to remain calm at that notion then asked them, “We are going to the Weasley family home for today, are you excited?”

They blinked up at you and Elurin asked, “We get to go?”

You nodded, “Of course. The whole family is invited.” Making their smiles grow as you started on your meal when they returned to theirs, “I was thinking you might enjoy watching Cinderella.” Their eyes rose to meet yours again, “Each year we pick a film to play, I think Cinderella is a good choice this year. Haven’t seen it in a while.”

Glorfindel asked with an interested smile, “Is it a significant story?”

You grinned at him, “It is an old one. A Prince is forced into holding a ball to choose a bride and a young woman who is being held as a servant to her Step Mother and her Daughters wishes to go. Her Fairy Godmother appears helping her to dress and travel to the ball, she has to leave at midnight though, and when she does the Prince is so smitten with her he goes off in search of the woman who belonged to the lost shoe he discovered she lost in her fleeing.”

Legolas, “Does he find her?”

You nodded, “Yes, but not until after the Step Mother and her Daughters scheme to try and get him to choose one of them instead.”

Glorfindel drew your eye asking, “Is it one of your favorites?”

His lips parted seeing the tears trying to form in your eyes even as your smile held, “It is a musical, a recording of the final performance my Mother gave before she died.”

Legolas, “Your Mother performed?”

You nodded, “Yes, she was incredible. Not everyone attending Hogwarts chooses to be an Auror or join the Ministry. She fell in love with performing, and Dad loved to watch her, used to make it to all her shows, insisted on it at work.”

Glorfindel smiled at you saying while his hand gently folded around yours on the table for a moment, “I cannot wait to see it.”

Elured, “Are you an orphan too?”

You shook your head, “No. My Dad will be there, his Brother and Sister too, you can meet the whole family. We’ve lost a great deal of our loved ones, so we’ve formed a new one for ourselves.”

They smiled wider and asked, “Are there little ones too?”

You nodded, “A few, though they are younger than you, perhaps Elrond will be bringing Estel with him.”

Glorfindel nodded, “I am certain he will. He will have wished for more time with Lady Celebrian, I do not doubt he will be requesting my taking watch over Estel as well.”

“Permanently?”

Legolas chuckled, “It would be far easier to hold custody of all three together over keeping them separate after they have bonded. We would not be taking on each little one in our lands I assure you.”

“You won’t mind?”

Glorfindel shook his head through his growing smile, “I knew his parents, they would be pleased to know he has Brothers to grow with.” Making you nod again.

…

In Rohan

Through the door Thranduil traveled, drawing the eyes of the Men around the overlook at his arrival from the curious lone door. A steady inhale later the King walked alone into the open main hall where he found the Rohirric Lords comparing their dress robes for the evening ahead. Grins spread on their faces when they turned to welcome the Elf King bowing their heads to him before Thengel approached asking, “King Thranduil, come to escort us on your own? We had hoped to see your new Queen in the sunlight confirming if her blue hair was a result of our mead.”

Thranduil replied steadily, “The Queen is having breakfast after an early morning ride.”

Thengel raised a brow, “Ah, and here we were arguing over which would be the best steed to gift her.”

Thranduil, “My Elk volunteered himself for her use. It seems in her former home she had never seen an Elk or Horse.” That drew all eyes to him making the Men group closer in shock. “Her life was greatly limited to the city, far more like Gondor than Greenwood or Rohan. She was limited to traveling on her Dragons.”

Thengel, “Dragons?”

Thranduil nodded, “She has two sharing her home. Part of why she was chosen to aid in reclaiming Erebor.”

Lord, “They would not be crossing into our borders would they?”

Thranduil shook his head, “No, her Dragons abide by strict laws. All but her two dwell in their chosen dwellings in the Mountains of Angmar. The pair do not leave her lands, rarely leave her home in fact.”

Halmar, the Man that you had punched, “Why would they not leave her home?”

Thranduil, “They were taken from their nests, she rescued them and granted them safety.” His hand stretched out to the Lord offering him the candy eyeing the bruise on his face, “My Queen asked me to offer you this, to heal your face.”

He blinked a few times then accepted the candy stating, “I cannot see how this will heal my face.” Eyeing the shining wrapper on the square candy.

Thranduil, “Unwrap it and eat it.”

Halmar eyed it then found the seam in the wrapper before unwrapping it and timidly placing the candy in his mouth and swallowed it then tried to ignore the tingling in his face just moments before Thengel gripped his chin and turned his face. All at once the bruise lightened and faced away as well as the swelling around his eye making the Men gasp then glance at the Elf King who merely raised a brow when Thengel asked, “Simply a schoolteacher?”

Thranduil smirked replying, “It is a school for Isitari.”

Thengel smirked stating, “We shall have to reconsider our choices for steeds then, something far finer must be chosen.”

Thranduil drew in a breath stating, “That is why I am here. My Queen shared her favorite breed from her former home and I hoped to aid in the search.”

Thengel smirked, “Too bad she is not with child, we have a fine bunch of ponies to offer as well.”

Thranduil, “As it goes she is in custody of a pair of Twin boys alongside Lord Glorfindel. With another boy soon to be added, if my assumptions are correct.”

Thengel grinned taking a few steps close to Thranduil peering up at him then said, “We should get searching then. Did she offer that doorway of hers?”

Thranduil nodded, “Yes.”

Thengel, “We should be requiring use of it for fetching those from Gondor. And we should also discuss possible dates for our young ones to get together.” He glanced at his Cousin’s face, “Your Queen is quite lax on those who insult her. We had imagined your passing on her demands for greater punishment.”

Thranduil smirked, “You will find my Queen to be quite, surprising. I doubt your Cousin intended to insult her.”

Thengel nodded with a chuckle, guiding him to the open enclosures in the pastures around the small city filled with various breeds of horses and ponies. “He never does.”

…

In Pumpernickel, Godric’s Hollow memorial graveyard

All night the Feanoreans, once their bout of dancing had ended they had found the enchanted pathways and stared through the one marked Pumpernickel with narrowed eyes. Eventually in the early morning the returned Lords led the way through the archway. After a glance around they followed the path eyeing the various homes along the way until they came across a small set of cottages. There behind a ruined and grafitied cottage they spied the fenced in courtyard filled with floating orbs in linked spirals containing glowing images of the faces of those that had been survived by your fleeing people above each of the worn gravestones in varying shapes. In the distance Elros led the path to the familiar red head in the distance rising from her knees at the base of the most unusual statue, at least from his position at the side of it.

Behind him Maglor flicked aside the vines covering the plaques below each statue he passed while Caranthir and Clegorm stopped to each pick up one of the scattered notes only to eye them unable to read what they said in the Common Tongue. Curufin behind them raised a curious looking stuffed whale, their attentions to the items brought the stern glare from Ginny straight on them making Maedhros freeze in place as she called out, “Do your people not have laws against disturbing grave sights?” Instantly the men froze and gingerly set the trinkets and tokens back.

Elros raised his hands on her turn watching them approach her eyeing the statue behind her, “We were not aware what these lands were.”

Elrond tilted his head inspecting the statue behind her asking, “We did not intend on interrupting your mourning.”

Ginny drew in a breath, “I was leaving flowers for Jaqi’s Mother, they always say they will, but they can rarely stand to visit.”

Amrod, “She cannot visit her own Mother’s grave?”

Ginny raised her arm pointing at the crumbling cottage coated in notes they had all inspected in their trip inside, “That cottage is where Jaqi apperated to after watching her Mother be tortured to death. Where she watched her Aunt Lilly and Uncle James get killed by her Uncle Riddle before he tried to kill her and her Cousin Harry in his crib.” Her arm moved to the one next to it, “That cottage is where she lived before that day, she hasn’t been able to go inside of it since then. My Mum had to help her Uncle Regulus pack it.”

Their lips parted and they eyed the statue again, Amras asked, “That is her Mother’s grave?”

Ginny turned eyeing the statue of the couple holding baby Harry in their arms with their birth and death dates under their names at the base, with Harry’s having two death dates, “This is James, Lilly and Harry’s grave.” In a step to the left she showed them the statue of Jewelia and Jaqi in her arms with a large black dog beside them, “This is Jewel’s and Jaqi’s.”

Curufin, “Jaqi’s?”

Ginny pointed at the second plaque reading, ‘Jaqiearae Suzsieanne Anistasiea Pluto Black’ with two death dates before another dash leaving room for your third, “She’s been killed twice.” Their eyes scanned over the dates leaving them gasping.

Clegorm, “How old is she?”

Ginny met his eyes coldly, “22 today.” Drawing out another gasp from all but Elrond, who already knew from your Father. Her eyes shifted to Maedhros, “For all you might not trust or like about her, she has spent the last 18 years of her life never once being considered for how deeply the choices our world forced her into would inflict on her. One single man hoping for power and immortality heard a prophecy naming an infant that would be able to bring him down, so he went to kill him. 18 years she has been a pawn in someone else’s war and an endless battle of egos and she somehow managed to survive and bring us with her here, to safety. We were Children, and somehow we were expected to take out the darkest Wizard of our age. Before you came we had finally settled, started to heal again, what right do you have to doubt her when you were the one to kill those boys’ Parents. How does that give you any rights to them?!”

Maedhros, “Their cultures must be honored!”

Ginny stepped closer to him as her glare tightened, “Their cultures?! You destroyed their culture! Their home, Family and lives! You killed them that day! Who they were going to be, what they could have achieved! You just don’t understand!”

Maedhros huffed stating sarcastically, “Oh please do enlighten me.”

Ginny’s eyes sparked and she muttered an incantation casting the graveyard into a field of mist starting a stream of memories locked in this memoriam for any willing to witness them. Starting with the public announcement of the events at Godric’s Hollow echoing with flashes of titles reading in their own native tongues, ‘The Boy Who Lived and The Girl Who Died Protecting Him’. After this it rippled through your years of hiding as a Weasely. Sirius’ escape short after. Next was the naming of your being named as alive and your house in Hogwarts to the world.

Then it was the news of each of the teachers being dismissed in your position. Up till the Chamber of Secrets being opened leaving you sent to Azkaban leaving them with mouths agape at the headlines and image of you being carried bloody and beaten in Lucious’ arms from Azkaban in their tying to beat the location of the Chamber from you. After was the apologies and clearing of your and Hagrid’s names.

The attack at the Quidditch cup and Triwizard tournament, that left you and Harry the final survivors with the image of you gagging on your own blood after one of the Death Eaters had nicked your neck with a cursed blade that inflicts wounds that slowly expands, nearly decapitating you. Shortly after your convincing Riddle in Parseltongue that killing Harry out of sight of others would not mean much, that his death had to be public granting you both a chance to return.

After was the flurry from the Ministry about trying to hide Riddle’s return and Umbridge, revealing her methods of ‘teaching’ to the men watching. In the middle of the Ministry of Magic the main hall of fountains was shown with you dueling in Albus’ form until Riddle held you above Harry’s unconscious body strangling you until you shifted back, just in time for the picture etched in the floating newspaper passing the group was captured moments before Riddle fled.

After this the images sped on, one after another of various deaths, battles and moments leading up until the final battle at Hogwarts leaving you shoving Neville free from Bellatrix’ attack, starting your final battle with her. Helpless they watched on at the hidden dagger crashing into your side before the final curse you triggered from her in your taunting. Growing burns from the cruciatus curse spread across your skin between your screams while Ginny clenched her fists glaring at the teary eyed Maedhros watching on helpless just as the students, Aurors, flocks of ducks and Professors had behind your bubble charm.

Finally your screams ended in a flash of green as you flew in front of Bellatrix taking the full blow of Riddle’s killing curse sending you both rolling across the dust and rubble coated ground. In a race Riddle got to your side and cradled you in his arms as the blackened ooze draining from your facial scars was releasing out a near silent scream under his wails of agony at your loss. Sharply he turned to Bellatrix, once noseless with red eyes and now mortal again flesh colored with dark hair slicked back, blue eyes and a sharp snarl at the cowering Bellatrix who was promptly tortured and killed after.

Slowly their eyes returned to you, seeing Neville standing with his wand aimed at Riddle inching closer with Draco beside him, both with tear stained cheeks between Fred and George. Through Riddle’s attempts at bargaining for his life while the Student’s wands rose your body slowly slumped over onto your side and you painfully clambered to your knees gripping your wand. In a slow gasp for air you apparated in front of Neville and Draco when Riddle cast his next spell causing his wand to launch his curse right back at him. Heavily you fell forward passing out from your wounds as the hidden trinkets you had tucked through Hogwarts snatched up all the unallied Death Eaters while you were circled by healers.

After, your trial played following the scene of the Ministry tearing you from your hospital bed to your due diligence. Ending with you barely being able to stand through the announcement of your sentence, the uproar causing there to be a pause in judgement, once in session again you were sentenced to life serving as a teacher and given the warning of prison should the Death Eaters rise again. Next the flurry of the past couple years flew by with memories from each group ending with the flurried snatching up of what could be gathered that ended with crashing in Bag End.

When their breathing had steadied their eyes fell on Ginny as the last of the mist rolled away leaving them trembling at her fading glare dropping into a deeply sunken expression, “We should have protected her. But we all used her as our shields while the former Ministry condemned her all while taking the information she fed them on how to arm and protect our people. And she never once condemned us for it, she just took the brunt of it, and took it and never accepted a thank you or apology. She was in the twins’ place, you do not understand because you are not trying to protect them. If anyone knows what they are going through it’s her. Say what you want about her, but you will never get those boys, and she will never let you hurt them again.”

Maedhros, “I have no intention-.”

Ginny flatly cut him off, “No one ever does, but they do.” Glancing over the group she paused at the trilling notes of her watch she peered at then stated, “I have to get home. Family will be coming soon.”

Blankly the group watched the sullen teen for a few moments then followed after her eyeing the path leading past your home towards the oddly built home in the distance appearing far from sturdy. 

Pt 15

#Thranduil x Reader OC #Glorfindel x Reader OC #Hobbit #lotr #hp crossover

[poisoned-chicken-marsala]

ok so I combined the last things I wrote because they belong together and I was too lazy to post them in the same thing but here we go. Same chapter thing as before, but put together under the cut bc it’s long. Please tell me what you think!

Kara trudged home from the grocery store on a Thursday afternoon. It had been a relatively calm day for her, she had the day off of work and was very happy about that. Or, she felt like she should be happy about it, but she just felt off the whole day instead. She felt like her head had been in a fog and her body felt heavier than usual. It took so long to get groceries, even with a list detailing exactly what she needed. At least the stores she’d been to were mostly empty and she could wander mindlessly. But walking home required thought and Kara tried to engage herself with her surroundings while she made her way home by kicking a rock in front of her as she went. The rock came to a stop at the foot of some stairs after the last kick. The building they led up to was no longer in use and boarded up to discourage people from breaking and entering. Kara smiled slightly when she approached the steps. Almost home.

    When she looked for the rock, she saw someone sitting on the steps and glanced to see who it was. To her surprise it was Narancia, a boy her and her friends had hung out with at the park many times. Did he live out this way? She didn’t know, and never thought it was polite to ask. He was sitting with his knees drawn up to his chest a troubled look on his face that didn’t leave, even when he looked up to see who was there. 

    “Hi Narancia.” Kara said with a small smile. Narancia stared at her for a moment and didn’t reply. He rested his chin on his knees again and turned his attention back to the street. Kara’s backpack felt like it gained a hundred pounds when he brushed her off. She stood still for a moment, tilting her head and giving her friend? a curious look. What the hell was his problem? 

    “Are… are you okay?” She tried again, shuffling her feet. He looked up at her again, angry this time.

    “Shut the fuck up.” Narancia snapped, letting go of his knees. Kara’s eyes widened in shock, her face burning. She stepped back on to a lower stair, staring at the patch of plants near where his hand was resting.

    ‘Oh. Did I overstep a boundary of some kind?’ She asked herself. The silence that settled between them lay thick and heavy, like a blanket. A minute passed (it seemed more like an hour) before she looked him in the face again. Kara figured she must have still looked shocked because Narancia’s face fell after a moment. To her surprise, he started to cry. Kara immediately walked back up to the step Narancia was sitting on and hesitated for a moment before reaching down and gently taking his arm.

    “Come on, let’s go to my house. It’s not far.” She said softly and pulled him up to his feet. 

————————————

The walk to her apartment felt like a dream. Kara unlocked the door when they arrived and ushered her friend inside, locking the door behind them and putting her backpack down on the floor. Narancia sat down on the sofa, only looking up when Kara offered him a fist full of tissues. She set the box down on the table and took a seat next to him, their knees touching. The radio on the windowsill played a song she didn’t know the name of, the melody interrupted by bouts of static and Narancia’s heavy breaths. Kara sighed and looked at the grocery bag. They could wait, she decided. There wasn’t anything that could spoil in there. She took a quick glance back at the crying boy. He was staring at the carpet, a tissue balled up in his left hand. Kara reached slowly to rest her hand on top of his. Narancia didn’t move. 

    Eventually, he stopped crying and stirred some time later, pulling his hand out from under hers. She watched him for a moment and pointed to a slightly cracked door through a small hallway when he turned towards her, feeling her eyes on him.

    “Go wash your face. You’ll feel better.” Kara suggested and rose from her spot. Narancia got up too, picked up all of his tissues and shut the door to the bathroom once he was inside. Kara moved her bag from the floor to the kitchen and heard the tap begin to run. Guilt struck her when she unzipped the biggest pocket of her bag. 

‘I should have done more.’ Kara scolded herself and let go of the bag. ‘I can ask him if he wants a hug when he comes out.’ She paced in the kitchen, heart pounding, humming to a song on the radio for what seemed like an eternity when the tap finally shut off. The door swung open. Kara straightened up and looked at her friend awkwardly standing in the bathroom doorway. He looked a little better, it was still obvious he had been crying. She walked over to him nervously.

“Do you want a hug?” 

“… Yes.” 

Kara closed the distance between them and loosely wrapped her arms around Narancia, tightening her grip on him when he hugged her back. They stood and listened to the radio for a moment which was broadcasting mostly static instead of music. 

    “I’m sorry.” Narancia said quietly after a moment, letting go of Kara. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you. You only asked me a question..” 

    “I accept your apology… Do you want some soup? I was going to make some for myself but I’m sure there is enough for you as well, if you’re hungry.” Kara changed the subject, walking back into the kitchen to her bag and zipped her bag open wider.

    “I guess I’ll have some, since you’re offering.” Narancia replied, fiddling with a pen he found on the counter. 

————————————

He sat down at the table and stared at a poster of a white clown holding.. Cocoa powder? He couldn’t tell, the poster was in another language he didn’t understand. It was a bit hard to see the clown’s features from where he was sitting. The only things he could really see were its open mouth and bright red cheeks. Narancia was so engrossed in the clown, Kara startled him when she set a bowl down in front of him and promptly walked passed him to the TV. She picked up a remote off the table in there and turned it on. A movie played on the screen, the dialogue of the characters clashing with the static from the radio. Kara turned that off and turned towards the TV to see what was going on. Narancia got up from the table and wandered into the living room, brushing past Kara. 

There was a fish tank above the TV and more posters. And books everywhere:on the table, under the radio and in a large box beneath the shelf next to the TV. There were books on things from Hurricanes to Gems to what looked like novels. One titled The Moomins and The Great Flood caught his eye. Narancia knelt down and took it off the shelf, curiously looking at the cover. White, rotund creatures stood out against the dark forest backdrop on the front. He was right, it was a story book. The movie cut to a commercial break and Kara looked over at the shelf, doing a double take when she saw Narancia on the floor. 

    “What’ve you got there?” She asked. He held the book up for her to see, twisting it around slightly so he could read the title.

    “The.. Moomins and The Great Flood.” He placed the book on the table and looked up at Kara. “What’s a Moomins?” 

    “Oh. I can tell you about that after we eat. I think the soup will be done soon.” Kara replied and hurried back to the kitchen to check. Narancia followed her and looked at the white clown poster again up close this time. The clown’s eyes were small and dark. They made it look crazy: solemn eyes and a big grin. Maybe the clown was confused as to how it was supposed to feel and he took a little comfort in that. 

————————————————————————————–

    Kara and Narancia sat on the couch, their soup bowls on top of the books on the coffee table. They were old books that she didn’t care if they got food on them, it would just give her a real excuse to get rid of them. They didn’t know the movie that was  playing, they missed the very beginning. The plot made no sense and they only knew a few character names. Whatever. It was only background noise anyway, along with the occasional clink of a spoon against a bowl. The Moomins and The Great Flood lay forgotten on the table. 

Kara glanced at her friend while she picked her bowl up again. Narancia was watching the movie, resting his chin on his fist and his other hand holding his empty bowl in his lap. He looked much better than earlier, she thought and peeked into her own bowl before he caught her staring. It was empty, much to her surprise. She didn’t remember finishing her soup and after a quick inspection of the table, she hadn’t spilled it. Huh. Kara stood up.

    “Do you want any more soup?” She asked. Narancia looked away from the movie and shook his head.

    “No, I’m good.” He replied and turned back to the TV for a second. “Thanks though.” He added quickly. Kara smiled slightly.

    “Can I take your bowl then?” She extended her arm for it. Narancia nodded once and handed it over, stretching out over the length of the couch. Kara snorted and grabbed it from him, picking up his spoon off the middle cushion and walked into the kitchen. She filled the bowls with water and left them on the countertop. When she returned to the living room, she decided she was going to actually pay attention to the movie. It was fun to make up reasons certain characters were doing certain things. Of course they were all wrong when the big reveal of the villain’s evil scheme happened and filled in some of the holes in the story. When the credits rolled, Kara stretched, reaching up towards the ceiling. She looked over at the other side of the couch and did a double take, suddenly remembering Narancia was there. He had fallen asleep, his head propped up on his fist. 

    Guilt settled in Kara’s stomach as a heavy weight while she stared at her sleeping friend. How could I forget he was here? Ohdear, what time is it? Her heart lurched when she looked at the clock: it was a little after 10 pm. She went over to his side of the couch, kneeling next to the arm rest,  gently placing her hand on his shoulder.

    “Narancia, wake up.” Kara said urgently. Narancia promptly woke up and rubbed his cheek where his fist had been. Kara let go of his shoulder and rose, glancing at the clock again. 

“It’s, like, after 10 and I didn’t know if you had a certain time you needed to go home or something… I got sucked into the movie and lost track of time.” She admitted and fiddled with her braid. He was silent for a moment.

“I should probably go check in.. I ran off hours and hours ago. They’re probably worried about me..” Narancia said, not caring to elaborate on who he was talking about being concerned over his disappearance for the afternoon. He yawned, causing Kara to yawn as well, and got up off the couch. Kara followed him to the door, where he hesitated with his hand on the door knob.

“Thank you… for everything. I appreciate it and I’m sorry I yelled at you.”  Narancia apologized quietly and stared at the floor. 

“I forgive you, and I’m sorry I didn’t do more for you…. I hope you’ll want to hang out again in the future, when we’re both not sad. If we watch a movie next time you come over, I promise I won’t forget you’re here.” Kara joked, attempting to lighten the mood. Narancia looked up from the floor and smirked.

“Yeah, that offended me so much.” He replied and opened the door and stepped out into the night. Kara rolled her eyes at him with a smile and stood in the doorway across from him.

“Good night, be safe on your way home.” She said, holding the door open when he let go.

“I will be, don’t worry. Good night.” He said with a small wave and turned to walk down the street. Kara watched him go until he turned a corner out of sight. She shut the door and locked it, walking into the kitchen to get to her room. The soup bowls caught her eye as she passed, deciding she would wash them in the morning. Sleep was more important.

#jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyō na bōken #jojo part 5 #vento aureo #jjba part 5 #jjba oc #jjba fanfiction #narancia ghirga #my oc #writers on tumblr #criticism is appreciated #aw shit here we go again #this must be the place #oh cee thingz

[agentflanders-blog]

                                                                                              — STATISTICS 

“When a body is burned, the heart is the last organ to oxidize. While the rest of the body can catch flame like a polyester sheet on campfire, it takes hours to burn the heart to ash.”

BASIC INFORMATION.

FULL NAME: Claire Elise Flanders 

NICKNAME(S): Claire-Bear ( by her father, on the rare occasions she actually saw him ), Larry ( by her younger sister Eleanor, because ‘Claire’ proved difficult for the lisping toddler to pronounce ), Flanders ( by former partners and familiar coworkers ), CUNT ( behind her back, of course, though she’s not unaware of it )

AGE: Thirty

D.O.B.: October 3rd, 1987

HOMETOWN: Belvedere, California

CURRENT LOCATION: Detrosa, California

ETHNICITY: White; Finnish on her father’s side, Swedish and French on her mother’s

NATIONALITY: American

GENDER: Cisgender female

PRONOUNS: She/her

ORIENTATION: Hyporomantic bisexual 

RELIGION: Lapsed Christian / stubborn atheist  

POLITICAL AFFILIATION: Democrat

OCCUPATION: Special Agent for the FBI, formerly a detective with the LAPD

LIVING ARRANGEMENTS: Currently living out of a dive motel on the outskirts of Detrosa; she refuses to settle, and the FBI is paying her expenses anyway. The only money that comes out of her pocket is for alcohol ( a sizable chunk of change, if you have Claire’s habits ) 

LANGUAGE(S) SPOKEN: English, Spanish, a bit of French 

ACCENT: Generic American. Flat affect. 

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE.

FACE CLAIM: Alicia Vikander 

HAIR COLOUR: A natural, virgin chocolate-brown. The ends get sun-dyed.

EYE COLOUR: A deep, warm brown with a distinct yellow cast to them; like caramel. 

HEIGHT: A misleading 5′6 ( she appears proportionally smaller than she is ). 

WEIGHT: A slim 115 lbs ( blame scarcely eating for her diminutive frame ). 

BUILD: Skinny, not slim. Knob-kneed, muscles protruding because of lack of food and not actual bulk. 

TATTOOS: Only one: ELLE, stamped across her hipbone, flanked by a daisy. 

PIERCINGS: One in each ear ( done when she was a baby ). 

CLOTHING STYLE: If she’s working, she tends to wear button-ups and black slacks or jeans, along with comfortable Doc Martens. If she’s off, you’re more likely to find her in some flimsy tank ( for comfort, not fashion ) and slouchy jeans. A Ramones tee hanging off her shoulders. Think haphazard and monochromatic. She scoops up whatever t-shirts she can find secondhand and pairs them with one of her two demolished pair of dark jeans. If it’s cold, she’ll throw on her faux-leather jacket. That’s about it as far as fashion is concerned. Rings, rings, rings. She likes rings because she often absently digs them into the flesh of her legs; hers are particularly pointy, particularly given to drawing blood. 

USUAL EXPRESSION: Prickly. Standoffish. Sarcastic. Blunt. Then, there’s that unmistakable madness in her eyes; sad, lonely, broken. Like a fire still alive in her irises. 

DISTINGUISHING CHARACTERISTICS: She has two long, deep scars from her two wrist surgeries. They are both long and gashed along her vein, ugly and pink. She likes to cover them up and can usually be seen clutching her shirtsleeves in her palms. The scars from where she cuts herself, mostly on the inner thigh. Just little ticks, like she’s tallying something. 

HEALTH.

PHYSICAL AILMENTS: Chronic insomnia. Further, Claire is left-handed, a choice to minimize the damage to her right (which she needs working). Her right wrist landed peculiarly in her fall, and it has never worked properly since.

NEUROLOGICAL CONDITIONS: Diagnosed PTSD, depression, and ADHD. Self-medicated anxiety disorder. Alcoholism. Opioid addiction. Trichotillomania. 

ALLERGIES: Dogs. 

SLEEPING HABITS: Erratic. She tends to go through bouts of regulating herself to sleeping at around eleven-midnight, and then others of insomnia ( where she often doesn’t fall asleep until four in the morning, if ever ). Usually she falls asleep drunk, and fully clothed. If she doesn’t, she leaves her clothing on just the same (on the off chance that she’ll have to flee in the middle of the night because another fire is nipping at her heels). It’s an odd habit that she has had since her childhood. 

EATING HABITS: Similarly irregular. Oftentimes she forgets to eat, and when she remembers, she always reaches for something palatable rather than nutritious. For her, that means something sweet, like a donut or a candy bar. Quick, goes down easy, fuels her for a while. 

EXERCISE HABITS: Runs on occasion, though that’s more to quiet her mind than anything else. To stop herself from slicing into herself again, again, again. 

EMOTIONAL STABILITY: Claire probably ranks a 4/10 on emotional stability, though that is not necessarily demonstrated outwardly. To most, she would appear to be mild, unaffected. In truth, she’s a deeply emotional human being, and she feels things very strongly, which makes her very mercurial. Her mind is a difficult place to be. When she is sad, it is suffocating. When she is joyful, which is rarely, she feels like a live current. 

SOCIABILITY: Claire prefers being alone to anything, but can become very depressed when she hasn’t seen anyone in a long time. She doesn’t want to admit it, but company is necessary for her. She was once a very social child, but she grew into a reclusive adult; something which was borne of trauma, not her natural inclinations. 

BODY TEMPERATURE: She runs very hot. Touch her hands and they’ll feel like embers; it’s why she likes her air-conditioning up very high. Her room feels like an icebox. 

ADDICTIONS: Alcohol, opioids, cutting. 

DRUG USE: She was first prescribed opioids when she was young in order to treat the pain from her hip and wrist surgeries. For a while, around sixteen, she became involved with a group of people who regularly used heroin. Now, she prefers to stick to OxyContin and poppy pod tea.

ALCOHOL USE: Excessive. We’re talking wake-and-guzzle. She scarcely feels a few shots now; it takes her much more than that. 

PERSONALITY.

LABEL: The Abrasive, The Cynical, The Escapee, The Vanished

POSITIVE TRAITS: adaptable, compassionate, courageous, fair-minded, intelligent, intuitive, persistent, sincere 

NEGATIVE TRAITS: aggressive, aloof, impulsive, cynical, detached, harsh, impatient, inconsistent, mercurial, secretive, unreliable, unpredictable 

GOALS/DESIRES: To solve the cases at hand with skill and efficiency. To become well-respected within the FBI. To transcend what happened to her as a child. To be able to exist idly and be content. To be happy. 

FEARS: Acrophobia. Anthophobia ( due her mother’s love of flowers and the suffocating bouquets that were always located around the estate ). Fear of food ( particularly of meat ). Claustrophobia. She both fears fire and is obsessed with it; with possessing it, controlling it. 

HOBBIES: Drinking, hair-pulling, cutting, listening to music while lying prone ( likely on the floor ) or thrashing wildly, reading ( exclusively pulpy detective fiction or true crime ). 

HABITS: Biting her fingernails. Pulling her hair. Chewing her lip. Cursing in a continuous string. Digging her rings and/or nails into her flesh. Sitting cross-legged. Standing with feet fixed far apart. Avoiding eye contact. Walking fast. Going to bed after 4 am ( if at all ). Not sleeping. Forgetting to eat for days. Sleeping fully-clothed, on top of the sheets. Gives one-word answers. Stops to think carefully before she speaks ( unless she’s sloshed ). Excessive sarcasm. Replies with “hmm” rather than an actual reply. Speaks very deliberately. 

FAVOURITES.

WEATHER: Cloudy, possibly with rain. A crisp 65 degrees. She despises being too warm and begins to feel suffocated by heat. 

COLOUR: Red.

Music: Screaming Females, Hayley Kiyoko, Samia, Courtney Barnett, Deap Valley, The Clash, Talking Heads, Led Zeppelin. 

Movies: The Shining, Psycho, Blade Runner, Fatal Attraction, Dogville. 

SPORT: She can only tolerate soccer. 

BEVERAGE: Teeling Irish Whiskey or the darkest stout imaginable. 

FOOD: A Reese’s peanut butter cup, though she prefers to drink her meals. 

ANIMAL: Hyenas. They are female-dominant. 

FAMILY.

FATHER: Jonathan “Jack” Flanders / Deceased / Former business mogul and owner & CEO of Flanders Farms packaged foods company  + LEGAL GUARDIAN: Elliot Turner / Sixty-three / Former Criminal Psychologist & current True Crime writer 

MOTHER: Virginia Turner Flanders -- called “Turner” by her friends / Deceased / Former Pageant Queen 

SIBLING(S): Eleanor Marie Flanders / Deceased 

CHLDREN: N/A

PET(S): N/A

FAMILY’S FINANCIAL STATUS: Wealthy.

EXTRA.

ZODIAC SIGN: Libra

MBTI: ISFJ - “The Defender”

ENNEAGRAM: TYPE 5 - “The Investigator”

TEMPERAMENT: Melancholy (SECONDARY: Choleric)

MORAL ALIGNMENT: Chaotic good 

PRIMARY VICE: Wrath 

PRIMARY VIRTUE: Humility 

ELEMENT: Fire

#tcrp.task #( still on fire — ) #* #( file: claire flanders — )

[agj1990]

Sammy the Chicken

Summary: Just a super cute day in the Winchester-Singer household with two-year-old Evy. 

“Balls!” Bobby drew his hand back from the car hood which had just slammed very hard on top of it. He had a small cut on the top of his hand, but otherwise seemed unhurt. Bobby headed inside and applied a bandage to his hand, then started to head back outside to keep working. A small voice from the other side of the kitchen stopped him. “Unca Baby?” Bobby looked over and saw two-year-old Evy standing in the doorway. He chuckled; he could tell Sam was still sleeping and she’d come downstairs without him. Her hair was a mess, and she was still in her pajamas. She was rubbing sleep out of her eyes and holding her stuffed cat Squish in her arm. “Hey, Baitfish? All better, huh?” “Yeah.” Evy said, grinning. “I not feel yucky no more.” Bobby chuckled. Evy had been sick a cold and fever for close to a week. She had caught it from Sam, who had spoiled her even more than usual that week out of guilt. Evy toddled up to Bobby, who picked her up and felt her forehead, and was relieved to find it felt normal. “Where’s Sam?” Bobby asked. Evy suddenly appeared guilty. “I keeped Sammy up last night. He still seeping. I not want to wake him up.” “Why’d you keep him up?” Bobby asked. “I not mean to. I had a bad dream. I was scared to go back to seep.” Evy explained. Bobby smiled. “You’re sweet as a cupcake, you know that?” Evy grinned and Bobby kissed her cheek. “Unca Baby?” she asked. “Yes?” “My tummy yelling at me.” she said, laying a hand on her stomach to emphasize her point. Bobby chuckled. “Well, I guess we better feed it, huh?” “Yes, pease.” Bobby quickly made her some eggs, which he was happy to see she practically inhaled. She hadn’t eaten more than a few bites at a time the entire week, a big change from her appetite that usually rivaled that of her big brother Dean. He sent her upstairs and helped her get dressed and brush her teeth. When she was ready, Bobby checked the clock and realized he had a problem. It was 8:30, and Sam was still sleeping. John and Dean were on a hunt, and someone had to watch Evy. Bobby looked down when he felt something tugging on his leg. “Unca Baby? What we do now?” Evy asked. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out, Baitfish.” “Will you teach me?” Evy asked. Bobby, puzzled, bent down to ask her, “Teach you? Teach you what?” “Bout cars.” Evy asked. Bobby could have sworn he felt his heart swell in his chest. “You want me to?” Evy grinned and nodded. Oh, what the hell? Bobby thought. “Alright, Baitfish. Come on.” Bobby picked her up and carried her back out to the garage, where he gave her very strict instructions. Do not touch anything without permission. Be careful. Do not go back to the house alone. Evy swore she wouldn’t, and Bobby got to work. He pointed out parts of the car to her, and very patiently explained what they did. Evy handed him things he asked for, and cheered when Bobby finally figured out the problem and the car started. “You did it!” Evy cheered, arms up in the air. Bobby quickly wiped his greasy hands and took a drink from the bottled water. Evy was grinning, a crooked, lopsided grin of accomplishment. Bobby walked over to her and ruffled her hair, then kissed her cheek. He reached into a bowl that he kept on a table by the wall, and handed Evy a lollipop that was almost the same size as her mouth. He opened it and handed it to her. “We did it.” he said, holding his hand up for a high five. “We did it.” Evy corrected herself, smacking Bobby’s hand as hard as she could. Bobby lifted her off the stool she was sitting on and set her on his hip. He closed the hood of the car and started to walk back inside with her. Evy wrapped her arms around Bobby’s neck as they walked. “Tank you, unca Baby. That was fun.” Bobby smiled and patted her back. “That was fun, Baitfish.” he agreed. “What do you say we go check on Sammy?” “Okay.” But when they made it to the living room, another surprise was waiting for them. Bobby was turned and putting his hat on the coat rack beside the door when he heard Evy gasp. She started squirming hard in his arms and trying to get down. What in the world? Bobby thought to himself, before Evy’s excited squeal answered the question for him. He set her down and she ran to the living room couch as fast as she could. “Daddy! Deanie!” Evy jumped onto the couch into her father’s lap, who, despite clearly being exhausted, picked her up and embraced her. Sixteen-year-old Dean hugged her too, and Bobby watched her with them without saying anything. John was genuinely smiling, which was a rare sight. Evy clung to John’s neck tightly. “I glad you back, Daddy. I missed you.” “I missed you too, little one.” John said. “Dean has something for you.” Evy finally let go of John’s neck and looked at Dean with wide, expectant eyes. “What is it? What you bring me?” Dean laughed and pulled out of his bag a toy for Evy. They had found it in a side of the road thrift shop that they’d stopped in because Sam had told them she needed some clothes. There, in the corner, Dean had found it. The toy was a plastic wheel, with an arrow in the middle. Around the edges were animals. Pointing the arrow at the animal and pulling the large lever on the side produced the sound that particular animal was making. Dean demonstrated it to her and Evy’s eyes got even bigger. “Wow!” she said, taking it from Dean and planting it in her lap. “Tank you, Deanie. Tank you, daddy.” “You’re welcome, kiddo.” Dean said. “Hey, where’s Sammy?” “Right here.” Sam came paddling into the room, looking very much like Evy had that morning. His hair was a mess, and he’d clearly just woken up. Evy got off the couch, carefully placing her new toy between John and Dean. She ran to Sam, who picked her up and hugged her, kissing her forehead before she did so. “Hey, Cricket.” he said. “You feel better?” “Yeah.” she said. “I sorry I keeped you up.” “It’s okay, baby.” Sam said. “What’d you get from Dean?” Sam moved over to the couch and sat between his father and brother, with Evy in his lap. Sam said hi to John and Dean, and Evy demonstrated her new toy for him. Sam quizzed her on the animals and their sounds before allowing her to pull the lever and check her answers. Evy suddenly stopped, took a long look at her toy and then back at Sam. She started to giggle. “Cricket, what are you laughing at?” Sam asked. Evy was laughing so hard she couldn’t answer him. “Come on, kiddo. What is it?” Dean asked. “Sammy….” Evy said, as every other word elicited a giggle, “Sammy look like chicken.” All four men in the room stopped what they were doing and stared at her. Evy sat in Sam’s lap, her entire body practically vibrating with giggles that threatened to escape. Sam didn’t know what to say, and every time Evy looked at him she nearly doubled over with laughter. “Kiddo, what are you talking about?” Dean finally asked. “Look, Deanie!” Evy insisted. Evy handed Dean her new toy, pointing out the picture of the chicken. Dean looked from it to Sam. He hadn’t seen it, but he partially agreed with Evy. Sam was in a solid white tshirt and red shorts. His bare feet did resemble the feet on the chicken in the picture, and his scruffy hair did remind Dean of chicken feathers. Dean smiled and nodded his head. “I think you’re right, kiddo.” “Very funny, you two.” Sam said, feigning annoyance but hiding a smile at the same time. “It’s almost naptime for this little chicken.” “I not chicken. You chicken.” Evy said. Even John had snorted at that. “Alright, Cricket. Come on. Naptime for you.” Sam insisted. “Okay.” Evy said. “Daddy, you and Deanie still be here when I wake up, right?” “Yeah, little one. We’ll still be here.” John promised. “We’ll all be here for a couple more days.” “’Kay.” Evy said, jumping off the couch. She jumped off the couch, holding her new toy in her hand, which Sam promptly pulled away from her. “Sammy!” “You will never get to sleep if you have this with you.” Sam said. “You can play with it when you wake up.” Evy scrunched her face in displeasure, and Sam was afraid that she might throw a tantrum, even though that was a rare occurrence. Sam held his ground, and eventually pointed to the couch, where Squish was sitting there, waiting. Sam pointed his finger at Squish. “You can take Squish, but nothing else.” Evy sighed. “Deanie, will you keep it safe for me?” Dean took it from her, amused at how stubborn Evy was and how much she reminded him of Sam. “Sure thing, kiddo.” “Tank you.” she said, handing it to Dean with both hands. She picked up Squish and turned back to Sam. “I ready, Sammy.” “Okay. Let’s go.” Sam took her upstairs and laid her back down in the bed they’d been sleeping in the night before. He was amazed she wasn’t crankier than she was, as she’d only slept about three hours. Not surprisingly, she fell asleep quickly. Sam tucked her in, kissed her, and headed back downstairs to the rest of the family. “Sleep well, Cricket. Sammy loves you.”

[sumigakure]

Skyfall

To: @modernart2012

From: @pwnie3​

Title: Skyfall

Rating: T

Wordcount: 2896

Prompt: Pacific Rim AU. Preference for MadaTobi, but I’m open to any pairing, romantic or otherwise. Doesn’t have to follow the movie

Warnings: Brief suicidal ideation, character death, excessive use of italics

Summary: Madara wakes up and doesn’t open his eyes, because he knows that if he does he’ll roll over and Izuna won’t be there in the next bed over. He feels like the ground has been torn out from under his feet and now he’s just falling alone into empty sky.

Drop, Category II solo, let’s do this, first blow comes, harness cracks, Izuna, Izuna, Izuna get up, “Kaleidoscope Burst please respond”, Izuna’s down, Izuna’s down, IZUNA–

Madara wakes up and doesn’t open his eyes, because he knows that if he does he’ll roll over and Izuna won’t be there in the next bed over. He feels like the ground has been torn out from under his feet and now he’s just falling alone into empty sky.

It feels strange, to not have Izuna there. Even as a little presence in the back of his head, like the way it feels to talk to someone using two soup cans and a piece of string, is gone. He and Izuna have– had always been notoriously strong ghost Drifters, to the point where they could divine each other’s emotions from across a building.

Tears well up in Madara’s eyes, and he presses the heels of his palms into them. His breath starts to shudder in his chest.

“Madara?” a scratchy voice asks, a hand laying itself on his thigh. “You in there?”

He scrubs at his eyes, then opens them to see Touka.

She looks about twice as bad as Madara feels. Her hair is a rat’s nest, her eyes are bloodshot and the bags underneath are deep enough to run a river through. She smiles at him wanly and runs her other hand over the crown of his head. “We didn’t think you were gonna wake up.”

I wish I hadn’t, he almost says. “How long was I out?”

She takes a deep breath and retracts her hand. “It’s been almost a week. Kaleidoscope Burst took most of the damage, but…”

But it wasn’t enough. No matter how much of the kaiju’s attack the Uchiha brothers’ Jaeger took, it wasn’t enough to save Izuna.

“It’s not your fault, you know,” Touka sniffs. “You know those old Mark Twos as well as I do. Flimsy harness couplings and all that, right? If anyone is to blame then–” a sob catches in her throat– “then it’s me.”

“Touka–” Madara starts.

“No, I was supposed to check everything in that conn pod, but who thinks to check on the pins holding in the damn harnesses?” She laughs bitterly, then sobers. “I checked the box without even looking because hey, you’d never had trouble with it before, why would you start now and it’s cost me my husband–” she chokes on her words and devolves into ugly, halting tears.

Madara pulls her close. She twists her hands into his hair, identical to Izuna’s except for the sheer volume of it, and bawls into his shoulder.

After a minute or two, she pulls back and takes a deep breath, then gives another little laugh. “Look at me, Madara. A week without Izuna and I’m already falling to pieces.”

“You think I’m doing much better?” he croaks eventually. “I feel like I just saw him five minutes ago and I’m already in shambles.”

“What a pair we make, huh?”

Marshall Uzumaki lets Madara rest, heal, and grieve for a week before she has him back in the ring for another copilot. She supervises him for every bout and Touka, who’s been reassigned from engineering to the command center since Kaleidoscope Burst’s last drop, calls out strikes as they land.

Like it means anything. All twenty-three of the bouts Madara’s gone in the past hour have ended 4-0 in his favor, and by this point the candidate pool is shrinking back into the audience.

Mito is one of Madara’s oldest acquaintances, and even if he can’t speak to her without losing his temper half of the time, he recognizes the look on her face when she leans over to whisper something into Touka’s ear.

“That will be all for today. Thank you for participating. Madara, come here,” Touka says. Madara steps forward. “We think that maybe a test is in order.”

He levels the two women with the most unimpressed look he can muster. “Did I not just spend the last hour doing tests?”

Mito makes an amused noise. “A different kind of test, Madara. Report to the drop bay in an hour.”

“Oh, hells no.”

Inside the mangled remains of Kaleidoscope Burst’s conn pod– the only intact part of her left– waiting and hooked up to her Pons system, is Hashirama of all people, with his little brother looking annoyed as usual behind him.

Madara gestures to Hashirama, looking straight at Tobirama. “Is this-?”

“Is this the test Mito ordered? Yes.” Tobirama looks all too pleased to be plugging someone else into Hashirama’s head. He spent four years Drifting with his brother before Hashirama screwed up his leg and got the Hidden Leaf, the Senju brothers’ Jaeger, removed from duty. “She wants to make sure your head will still let you Drift at all.”

Madara scoffs. “‘Can I still Drift’, of course I can still Drift! Why wouldn’t I be?”

Hashirama pipes in. “Well, saying that you can Drift is like saying that you can do art. It’s a generalization. Just because you can make ice sculptures doesn’t mean you can fold origami worth a damn.”

“Just because you could Drift with Izuna doesn’t mean that you can Drift with anyone else. Mito wants to make sure you’re physically capable of finding a new copilot before she spends more time on the matter,” Tobirama clarifies. “And seeing as how Hashirama is the easiest Drifter we have on site, he’ll be your partner for this exercise.”

It’s for the sake of his age-old friendship with Hashirama that Madara refrains from making a joke about how Hashirama is easy, and he knows that Madara knows exactly what he’s definitively not doing.

He takes some measure of gratitude that at least it’s Hashirama and not some green cadet that’s never even seen a kaiju. Hashirama is familiar, he was the first person Madara ever Drifted with even though he’s not the one that stuck.

“I’ll be observing your Drift from here just in case something goes wrong.” Tobirama steps back to his sleek control panel– which looks oddly different from the ones in the LOCCENT. “Initiating neural handshake,” he says, getting ready to flip switches. “In five, four, three, two, one.”

Hashirama’s memories rush into Madara’s head. Little brother, Mother is gone, new mother, more brothers, Madara, Tobirama, Madara, Madara, Madara, police academy, the first kaiju taking away Father and Itama and Kawarama, the Jaeger program, why is Tobirama here he should be safe at home, Drift compatible, victory, victory, victory, victory, victory, pain and loss, you’ll never pilot again with a leg like that, Mito, command track, oh god Kaleidoscope Burst please respond–

Madara is thrust violently back into his own body with a jolt and knows that Hashirama just felt the same thing.

“Handshake successful. Try waving hello with your right arm,” Tobirama directs.

It works, as every other command Tobirama gives them does. It goes so well in fact that only Hashirama has to listen to what Tobirama’s saying Madara just follows his lead. Hashirama exists in Madara’s head as a long road he’s compelled to follow no matter where it may take him. He’s similar, in many ways, to Izuna. Bright, happy Izuna who was like the blinding, guiding sun on a summer’s day. Izuna’s wedding was on in the middle of summer, Izuna, Izuna, Izuna-

“Right hemisphere out of alignment,” he vaguely registers hearing before he’s disconnected from the Jaeger.

He comes out of the Drift like waking up from a dream, groggy and absent and with a faraway look in his eyes. All he wants to do is sleep and not think about the report Tobirama will be presenting to Mito and how he can guess exactly what it will say. Is capable of Drifting but chased the rabbit in almost record time. Unfit for duty. End report.

A few days later, Madara– who hasn’t been asked back to the sparring ring and is completely blaming that on the report Tobirama probably filed– is tasked by a newly-busy Touka with delivering a sheaf of Important papers to the R&D department.

The “R&D Department” is actually just three guys in a too-small room with a tiny budget that mostly gets spent on whiteboard markers, takeout, and weed. After Hashirama started Drifting with Tobirama but before Madara and Izuna got a Jaeger of their own, Izuna used to split his time between flirting at Touka in Maintenance and getting high with the R&D team. Madara used to hear a lot of stories about his friends’ crazy theories and that one time they all got crossfaded and woke up ten hours later having forgotten their own names.

But the budget has been cut down even more than usual this year, and so it’s not three guys anymore. It’s just one, and it happens to be the infuriatingly snarky one with white hair and tattoos that shouldn’t look as good as they do.

Tobirama isn’t paying attention when Madara walks in– he’s shoulder deep in a, well, in something, and his white button-down is discarded across the room in favor of the tank top that shows off real, honest-to-God biceps that he didn’t have the last time Madara saw his arms (granted he had been seventeen to the albino’s fourteen at the time, and knew what would happen if Hashirama even thought Madara had a thing for his brother) and also keeps his clothes from getting stained too bad by all the machine oil.

“Hey,” Madara says to get Tobirama’s attention.

The younger man startles, and in his haste to turn around flings a streak of oil in Madara’s face. He hisses and goes to wipe it off, but Tobirama slaps his hands away with a towel. “Don’t do that, you’ll just smear it.”

“Then what am I supposed to do?” he demands. “Be blind for the rest of my life?”

Tobirama makes a frustrated sound and kicks his ankle gently to guide him over to a chair. There’s a sound like a metal hatch closing, probably from the machine he was working on. “Sit down, I have something for this.”

A few moments later, Tobirama starts dabbing a wet cloth over the oil-stained portion of Madara’s face. “If this is acid–”

“If I wanted to kill you, Madara, I have other ways. It’s just something I mixed up to remove oil and grease stains,” Tobirama rebuts.

“Why not just wear gloves?” Madara blinks hard and then opens his eyes wide when Tobirama backs off.

“I’m allergic to latex and this facility doesn’t buy anything else.” The younger man lets the awkward air hand between them for a few moments. “So why are you here?”

Madara fumbles with the sheaf of papers. “Touka asked me to bring you these.”

Tobirama finishes cleaning the oil off his arms and then gives the folder a cursory glance, but Touka has always been bad at labelling things. “Do you know what it is?”

“Something about Burst’s specs.” Madara shrugs.

“Oh.” Tobirama’s eyes widen. “It’s notes about her Pons system. I’ve theorized that her previous engineer made some kind of neural processing magnification modification to the Pons system to enhance the combat abilities of the Drift team.”

Madara is no genius, but he did take an AP class or two in high school (one of them with Tobirama, who had no business being a freshman taking senior-level classes). “Based on what evidence?”

Tobirama swiftly makes his way over to one of four desks covered in so many papers it nearly hurts to look at. He rummages around what’s either the world’s most complex sorting system or just a mess, and after a minute he sounds a victorious shout and pulls a thick file from the bottom of a pile and lays it out on the one clean half of a desk he can find.

“These are neural performance records taken from one of your Drifts with Izuna in Burst,” Tobirama says, pointing to one long scanner sheet of paper, then to a second. “These are records taken of Izuna when he was Drifting in Burst with Touka.”

“Wait, what?”

“It was her birthday and she failed the Jaeger program’s physical but they were Drift compatible and I helped him out with giving her the birthday present to end all birthday presents, okay?” he points to a third record. “This is the scan I took of them from their anniversary Drift a few months later, this time at using the system I have here.” He gestures to the piece of machinery he was tinkering with when Madara walked in.

Madara studies the records. “The performance levels are completely different.”

Tobirama nods. “And this is a scan I took of you and Hashirama the other day, compared to the record I took of him the last time we snuck into Hidden Leaf.”

Again, the performance scores are wildly different. “So you want to prove that there’s something up with my Jaeger?”

The younger man nods. “Yes, and there’s just one more scan I need to prove it.”

Madara bobs his head too. “A scan of me outside of Burst.” He gives Tobirama a Look. “Did you tell Touka to send me over specifically with the specs?”

He nods again. “You’ll be Drifting with me this time.”

Madara lets out what’s definitely not a squawk of outrage. “You want me to Drift with you? We don’t even know if we’re compatible!”

“Please. If you can Drift with numbskulls like Izuna and Hashirama, you can Drift with me,” he scoffs. “Contrary to popular belief, I’m almost as easy to Drift with as Izuna or Hashirama.”

This is different, Madara wants to scream. Hashirama is different, Izuna was different. How long has it been, since he tried to Drift with someone who wasn’t his best friend or his brother?

“Just because we can both Drift with Hashirama doesn’t mean anything,” Madara exclaims. Tobirama let out another wordless noise of annoyance, but before he can say anything Madara interrupts him. “Just because a positive magnet connects with a negative magnet does not mean that two negative magnets will connect!”

“Just put on the damn headset and let me get my results.” Tobirama shoves the headpiece at Madara’s chest.

He grumbles. “I hope no-one believes your results.”

Tobirama is wearing a matching headset as he reaches for a button. “Initiating neural handshake in five, four, three, two, one.”

Mother, Hashirama, a big treehouse, loss, learning, top of the class, accelerated learning courses recommended, he’s too young for this class, why is he here, beat them all out, what’s a kaiju?, Hashirama don’t go, ‘Tobirama why are you here”, Drift compatible, Hidden Leaf, success, saving people, killing kaiju, failure, injury, find a new copilot or find a new job, Izuna, Izuna oh God please no–

If Hashirama’s mind is a path and Izuna’s was the sun, then Tobirama’s can only be described as an endless freefall over a cliff into the sea. Being in the Drift feels like Tobirama is his parachute. Through the Drift he knows that Tobirama views Madara like a chained lion, and he can feel the euphoria the other man knows as he sets the lion free.

Madara comes back into his own mind feeling like he can take on the world and win, in a way that Drifting with Izuna had never provided.

When Madara first entered the PPDC, the team he and Izuna took over from– a pair of women who piloted a wonderful Jaeger named Whirlpool Dawn– told him that there was Drifting and then there was Drifting. Maybe, he thinks, this is what they meant.

He looks over to Tobirama, and finds that the albino’s crimson eyes are just as wide and his face is just as flushed as Madara’s own must be. He watches Tobirama’s adam’s apple bob as he swallows thickly.

“I think we need to go talk to Mito,” Madara hears, though despite being aware of Tobirama’s every move he doesn’t know if the words were said aloud or if he just understood Tobirama’s intentions through the Drift.

“I think you’re right,” he replies.

Two months later finds Tobirama and Madara in matching Drift suits and getting ready to test drop for the first time together.

They had argued for a long time about which Jaeger they would pilot. They went back and forth with their reasons; Hidden Leaf was in better condition, but Kaleidoscope Burst was the newer and safer mech, for example. But before they could come to a conclusion (which many figured would never happen at all) the victorious new head of engineering, an early twenty-something called Sarutobi, informed them that they wouldn’t have to decide at all because he’d gone around them and gotten the all-clear from Mito to combine the two Jaegers.

So here they stand, ready to pilot Konoha Burst under the watchful eyes of Touka, Hashirama, and the entire world. What Sarutobi’s done by combining two defunct Jaegers is unprecedented, and even with a hundred different news crews waiting for the results of the test Madara isn’t scared.

He doesn’t have to look or talk to know that Tobirama is putting on his helmet and raring to go, but he does it anyways.

“You ready to rock the world, Skyfall?” he drawls.

“You know it, Lionheart.”

If you enjoyed this piece, why not take a look at other pieces written by the same author on AO3.

#rated: T #Sumigakure Winter Wishes 2017 #Sumigakure Stocking Stuffers 2017 #submission #sumigakure #rank: b #pwnie3

[betweenstories]

CHAPTER 24

“Girl, you know what winks and then fucks like a tiger?”

I arch a brow and try not to grin at LeRoy, the resident charmer currently holding court behind the Jade Bar.

LeRoy flashes me a wide smile. His brilliant white teeth shine bright against his blue/black skin.

As if he’s posing for the cover of Muscle and Fitness magazine, he arranges himself in an Atlas pose, flexes a massive bicep, and delivers an exaggerated, cheeky wink.

At that, I laugh out loud.

“I’ll give that one an eight. Actually, make it a nine. The bicep action was a nice touch.”

LeRoy chuckles as he pulls a small note pad from his back pocket. Plucking the pencil from behind his ear, he jots down the number.

I sip my Ginger Fig Martini—yuck! too sweet!—and try to hide my reaction.

“What’s the score now?”

After a moment of silent calculation, LeRoy announces, “In the World Championship for best corny pick-up line artist, I’m up by three.” He points at me with the pencil. “Time to bring your A-game, babe.”

I wrinkle my nose.

“I’ve never liked that endearment. Every time I hear it, all I can think about is the pig from the movie.”

LeRoy laughs. “Okay. Time to bring your A-game, chica. Is that better?”

I wobble my splayed fingers back-and-forth in a “so-so” motion.

We’d met LeRoy our second night in town when we’d stopped in for a nightcap at the Jade Bar. The moment I’d heard his thick accent, I’d bonded in the manner of all true southerners “abroad”—instantly and loyal unto death. Taking in the sheer mass of the male specimen, I’d known he had to be an ex-linebacker. Standing on the bar rail, I’d raised my palm high, and in my best southern drawl, I’d shouted above the clamber of the bar,

“Hey Georgia! How ‘bout dem dawgs!?”

His face had instantly split into a wide grin, and then he’d nearly taken my arm off with an overly exuberant high-five.

Once the bar rush had ended, he’d parked a rack of clean glasses on a nearby cooler and begun polishing wine stems before sliding them into the overhead rack.

Reading bartender code for, “I’ve got time to talk, I’d motioned to his name tag and asked if he went by LEE-roy or luh-ROY, because I had no desire to insult royalty. He’d smiled huge and flashed his pearly whites.

“My Mama called me her little king. She was the only one evuh’ called me luh-ROY, but you can call me anything you like.” With a wink, he’d added, “You can even call a ride for ol’ LeRoy when he leaves yo’ bed in the mawnin’.”

I’d decided right then, that LeRoy was unique in all the world. How many people could get away with speaking about themselves in the third person? None I’d ever met. LeRoy had just made it seem easy.

Just then, you’d returned from the restroom. I’d thought the Georgia boy would have the good grace to be embarrassed. Not so. He’d flirted with you as aggressively as he had with me. I think it was just his personality.

I’d wondered how you’d react to this male attention, but you’d handled it with the same aplomb you handled everything else.

When LeRoy had leaned on the bar and said, “I heard you English are the biggest freaks in the bedroom. How ‘bout you? Wha’s yo’ kink?”

You hadn’t missed a beat.

Grinning wide, you’d said, “I’m into listening to a southern woman tell me knock-knock jokes while she braids her hair before bed. Is that a kink?”

LeRoy’s laugh had been hearty, infectious.

Back in the present, I think, “Down by three!” and my competitive spirit kicks in.

Clearing my throat, I sit up straight and crack my mental knuckles.

“You might want to brace yourself for this one.”

LeRoy chuckles.

I catch a glimpse of myself in the back bar mirror.

Tonight’s hair is “concert style”: slicked back ponytail high atop my head (good for if it’s hot inside the venue) with the entire length braided into a long, loose fishtail.

With slow, exaggerated movements, I lift my hand. My silver bracelets chime as they tumble down from my wrist to my elbow. Circling my fingers around the top section of the braid, I lower my eyes to half-mast and slide my fist slowly down the length. I move back up to the top and stroke down once again.

When I reach the end a second time, I bring the tip to my mouth and slide it back and forth over my bottom lip. Pitching my voice an octave lower, I let my words roll out slow. For LeRoy’s benefit, I inject as much of the south into my accent as possible.

When I see the pulse point in his neck kick into high gear, I deliver my entry for best corny pick-up line.

“Hey, Big Guy.... I hope you got a good lawyuh...”

I close my eyes and softly moan. When I open them again, I lean forward and whisper,

“ .... ‘cause you just caused a flood in my basement.”

Immediately, I fall out of character. Dropping my braid, I’m all innocence as I sip my too-sweet martini.

LeRoy blinks once and then there’s that grin again.

“Day-yum, girl. You bettah get a permit for that voice, ‘cause you can slay fo’ sho’.”

I smile and wonder how much of LeRoy’s twang is fo’ show.

After writing in his note pad again, he points at me. “Up by seven.” He smiles. “You might wanna brace yourself for this one.”

In a move I’m sure took countless hours to perfect, he stretches his arms up to grasp the top edge of the overhead glass rack. His shirt comes untucked revealing three inches of finely chiseled male.

Before he speaks, I jump in, “Ten! Tens across the board for the best v-cut I’ve ever seen!”

Trapezoids dancing, LeRoy grins at me. “You sure you ain’t hittin’ on me? ‘Cause it feels like you’re hittin’ on me.”

“I’m sure.” I tap my chin as I look to the ceiling. “Actually, I’m ninety-two percent sure.”

LeRoy shakes his head.

“You might be worse than I am.”

“Entirely possible.”

As LeRoy clears away my plate, he tells me he likes a woman who cleans her plate. I thank him for the compliment.

For me, food is gas for my vehicle. Having dessert and high sugar alcohol for lunch had been low-grade fuel. I’d needed every bite of the simple grilled chicken breast and steamed veggies to get something better in my tank. When he starts to take my martini glass, I start to protest.

“I know you doan like it.” With a wink he adds, “You doan hafta be gentle with ol’ LeRoy.”

“In that case, luh-ROY, I’ll try the Ruinart. Where I’m from, nobody sells it by the glass.”

Just then, my spidey-sense tingles. I feel as if I’m being watched. I scan the room for the source until my gaze lands on you.

Casually leaning an elbow on the far end of the polished oak bar, your gaze is locked on mine. I can just make out the faint smile that always hides at the corner of your mouth, the one that peeks out whenever our eyes meet.

You’ve shaved. The line between your beard and cheek is sharp. I watch as you take in my thick braid, my deep red lips. I see the way heat flares in your expression as you track down to my skin tight black leather pants. When you raise your gaze, I don’t miss the way you zero in on my thin white tee, the black lace demi-bra, or—more specifically—the two tight points visible underneath.

Tucking a hand in the front pocket of your jeans, you hook your black leather jacket on a finger and drape it over your shoulder. My body hums, electric, as you slowly stroll my way. I glance at your midnight blue cashmere sweater, the sweater I’d once told you I loved to rub my bare breasts against. Your sleeves are pushed up to just below your elbows. Wicked man! I know you’ve done this on purpose. I know because I see your smirk when you see me notice.

Pre-you, I hadn’t noticed forearms whatsoever. Now, I wish I had a “forearm of the month” wall calendar featuring you in twelve themed vignettes. I smile and silently deem this look, “Mr. October.”

A few months earlier, I’d texted you, “I’m currently imagining riding you till I’m slick with sweat. I want to pin your arms over your head, wrap my fingers tight around your forearms and suck on your tongue till you buck beneath me, till I scream, till you fill me up with... compliments.” I hadn’t realised auto-correct had struck again until you’d texted back,

“Yes, please! 😋 But is “firearms” a euphemism? Even if it’s not, my answer’s still yes!! We’ll have to explore this whilst on your side of the pond though, as they’re basically illegal for civilians here.”

Suddenly, you’re in front of me. You bend and kiss me slow and sweet. Your mouth is soft and warm. You taste faintly of peppermint.

I smile. “You can do that again if you’d like.”

Draping your jacket over the back of a bar stool, you slip your hands around my waist and kiss me again.

“Y’all need to get a room, for real.” LeRoy slides a wine stem from the overhead rack, holds it up to the light to check for water spots, then pours a generous glass of your new favorite Merlot.

At that moment, a server appears, dome-covered plate in hand. LeRoy takes the plate and places it in front of you. With great ceremony, he lifts the lid to reveal ...

Brows furrowed, I lean in for a better look. It smells fantastic, but I have no idea what he’s revealed. Since you’d talked to LeRoy about food for more than an hour a few nights earlier, I’d left your meal selection up to him.

Reminding me of a big-eyed puppy, LeRoy looks at you, eager, clearly seeking your approval. He announces, “Braised oxtail tacos with chef’s special sauce.

You unroll your silverware.

“Thank you, my friend. It smells delicious. What’s chef’s special sauce?”

“It’s his secret. All I know is it’s good. It’s what I imagine it would taste like to go down on Charlize Theron.

While you chuckle, I raise a forefinger, “I’ll have a plate of that please.”

At that, you and LeRoy both laugh. While you tuck into your meal, you pepper LeRoy with enough compliments to send him into service personnel ecstasy.

“LeRoy and I were in the middle of a contest for best corny pick-up lines.

At that, LeRoy’s expression turns mischievous. “Okay, I got one.”

Propping an elbow on the bar in front of you, his bicep bulges as he pinches the material of his shirt and rubs it between thumb and forefinger.

“You know what kind of fabric this is?”

Fork suspended in mid-air, you shake your head.

LeRoy grins. “Threesome material.”

I never thought I’d live to see the day, but you’ve actually been rendered speechless. A fine blush spreads over your cheeks.

LeRoy maintains his grin. “Think about it. S’all I’m sayin’.”

Still shaking your head, you take a large bite of oxtail.

Twenty minutes later, you take your last sip of wine while I take my last sip of champagne. When I turn to look at you, your eyes are suddenly fierce.

Seizing my hand, you press a kiss against my palm. Your lips are soft and warm.

“What was that for?”

You raise my hand to your face, close your eyes, and press my palm to your cheek before covering it with your own. You inhale deep.

“I’m happy. That’s all.”

Such a simple statement. In this moment, I realize I’m happy as well. I raise your other hand to my cheek, smile as I cover it with my own.

“Seriously, don’t y’all have somewhere to be?”

With a look of feigned irritation, LeRoy clears away your plate and wipes down the bar.

I check the time on my phone while you look at your watch.

I lean over the bar and speak low. “Just put this on mine with thirty percent. Kay?”

He nods. We’d discovered the easiest way to handle travel expenses was to split the room charge and keep separate accounts for additional charges. We took turns paying for food. We didn’t have to clear personal purchases with each other, and it made my accounting easier since I could write off some expenses on my taxes.

Thanking LeRoy, you reach over the bar to shake his hand. “Have a great night. Maybe we’ll see you later? Are you closing?”

He shakes his head. “I’m here till Volume, so probably not.”

Flashing his mega-watt smile, he adds, “But y’all have fun and tell Teddy I said hello.”

[lliwdroffats]

Beginnings of my script for my Bayou inspired movie!

Louisiana 1809

Rufus comes in from a long day working.

Mr. LaFleur

Rufus you plow the fields?

Rufus

Yes i did sir

Mr. LaFleur

What about the well? You check it?

Rufus

Yes of course sir

Mr. LaFleur

Very good, you’re getting a big dinner tonight my boy

Rufus

Thank you sir

Mr. LaFleur

Now make sure you call all the rest of them in I have a big announcement and also wake Daisy if you please, she’s been resting all day, it’s almost supper

Rufus perks up a bit at the last part

Rufus

Of course sir

He goes into the gardens, the fields, the well and asks the other slaves to come in. Then goes into the house and upstairs to Daisy’s room.

Rufus

Hello Ms. Daisy your father would like for you to come downstairs, supper is almost ready

Daisy

I’ll be down in a bit….Rufus can you stay I haven’t had the best day

He pauses for a bit

Rufus

Of..of course Ms. Daisy

Daisy

You can just call me Daisy you know? You’ve been with the family so long

Rufus

Yes of course Ms….Daisy

Daisy

Sit with me

Rufus sits on the bed next to her

Daisy

You’re not actually a part of our family though…you didn’t choose this

Rufus

I’m very happy here Daisy, your family treats me well

Daisy

But don’t you want more, your own home? A family of your own?

Rufus

I..I’m not sure we should talk about this Daisy

Rufus starts to get up but then Daisy grabs him by the hand, swiftly but gently

Daisy

Wait…please

She motions for him to sit again

Daisy

I’ll be 18 soon, and soon after I’ll be married I’m sure…have you ever dreamed of being married Rufus

Rufus

Never really thought about it Ms…I mean..Daisy

She gets a bit closer to him

Daisy

Haven’t you ever loved anyone?

Rufus

Can’t say I have

She puts her hand on his

He swallows nervously

Daisy

I’ve seen the way you look at me, it’s the same way I look at you

Rufus

Ms. Daisy….I..

Before he could finish she moves her head towards his and plants a kiss onto his lips. At that moment Mrs. LaFleur walks in

Mrs. LaFleur

Daisy, Rufus what is…

She stops talking as the too quickly move away from each other. Rufus jumps up and bows his head

Rufus

I’m sorry miss, I tried to tell her

Mrs. LaFleur

We’ll talk about this with Mr. LaFleur later, right now it’s supper

LaFleur Estate Next day

Mr. LaFleur

Rufus! You know you can’t do that, now I have to punish you. You’re my best worker, I like you boy but you know you can’t do that, sure some in town actually let that kind of thing happen, but it’s dangerous. We can’t mix like that, you understand?

Rufus

Yes sir, I’m sorry sir

Mr. LaFleur

Make sure it never happens again, I’m merciful. But some of the men in town find out the ones who have been taking out slaves who have been race mixin and carrying on? I’m ruined and they’ll kill you. You understand?

Rufus

Yes…yes sir

Little did either of them know that William LaFleur, the LaFleur’s middle child was listening.

LaFleur estate porch night

There’s a knock at the door

Mr. LaFleur answers it

John Sterling

Where is he Bill?

Mr. LaFleur

Where is who?

John and the 8 men behind him crash into the house go up to where Rufus sleeps and drag him down into the front yard

Mr. LaFleur

Hey now, that’s my slave, my property you let him go

John Sterling

You give your slave a nice bed? A room in the house? How peachy? That why this nigger here trynna be with your own daughter?

Mr. LaFleur

I took care of it, I punished him

John Sterling

Oh yeah, and how’s that?

Mr. LaFleur

I gave him 30 lashings just this morning. Now let him go

John gives Mr. LaFleur a long stare then smiles a sinister smile, his mouth filled with gold caps on his teeth

John Sterling

On my daddy’s estate, that’s not enough. We hang the bastards where we’re from

Mr. LaFleur

He is my slave I will do with him what I see fit! Now let him go

John Sterling

…I’m afraid I can’t do that. BOYS!

He motions and they  all point guns toward Mr. LaFleur. Daisy, Mrs. Sterling the youngest brother Jeb come out of the house. Some of Sterlings men point the guns at them too

Mr. LaFleur

How dare you point those at my family!

He starts toward John Sterling, but Sterling hits him in the head with the pistol. Daisy sceams out and comes to the aid of her father

John Sterling

Now yall be quiet and stay here while we take this nigger here and show him what happens when he steps out of line

Rufus sat on his knees looking at Daisy over her father, sobbing. Sterling starts to drag him further into the swamp. Daisy leaves her father and runs toward Sterling, she grabs him and bites his hand causing him to drop Rufus for a second

Mrs. LaFleur

Daisy no!

Sterling turns around

John Sterling

A feisty little bitch huh? I see why you like this black trash, no one showed you manners

He hits her, she tumbles to the ground, then pulls out his gun

John Sterling

This one aint no good no way…tainted

He shoots her in the head

Mrs. Sterling

You son of a bitch!

She stumbles out to check on her daughter. Sterling points the gun at her

John Sterling

Now shut up or your next, got it?

Mrs. LaFleur simply cowers over her daughter silent and sobbing

Rufus is crying and starts grunting and screaming as this all transpires

Rufus

Daisy! Noooo! Daisy!

John Sterling

Shut up! Lets go!

Rufus tries to come to his feet and swings at Sterling. But Sterling ducks him and knocks him down with a pistol to the head.

John Sterling

This boys got some fight in him huh? Chain him up…find some rope

(First person) Rufus starts to wake up, his head throbbing. Sterling and his cohorts drag rufus into the swamp find a sturdy tree. His hands and legs bound with chains. They tie a noose around his neck and throw it over a tree.

John Sterling

Bring it over here!

His boys bring a bucket up and drop it right near Rufus’ feet.

John Sterling

You’re about to die, slow and painful unlike that poor girl…and it’s too bad I think she might have made a fine bride for me

Rufus is enraged by this and starts screaming at him

John Sterling

Do it! Shut him up

His men take the bucket and poor the contents onto Rufus, hot tar. Then throw feathers on him

John Sterling

And that’s what you get

Sterling is about to signal them to pull the rope but he can still hear Rufus screaming and saying something

Rufus

I’m gonna get you! If not this life! In the next! I will get you!

John Sterling

Is that so? Pull him up

They start pulling the rope up and slowly hang Rufus. But Rufus keeps muttering what he can while still staring John Sterling right in the eye

Rufus

I’m gonna get youuu!! i’m gonna…..ge..ttt….y…o…uu…i…..m…….go….n…n…a…g..eee…

He hang their for another few minutes his vision getting darker, he can see the house being set on fire in the distance…then darkness

Somewhere in Louisiana Daytime 2017

She walks down the street by the water, the grey haze from the sky above obscuring the sun. Her dark brown hair is drifting in the wind as she walks. Her eyes in their piercing blue looking out at the groups of people ahead. As she gets closer, she adjusts her blue tank top, makes sure her white pants are fitting right, adjust her foot in one of her right flip flop and proceeds forward.

She just moved to this area, and was looking for a place to stay, nothing but her one bag, with all the belongings she had. She dragged it behind her with it’s wobbly wheels spinning as she pulled it.

She finally got to where she saw the crowd congregated, they were all watching a street performer, a man painted blue, breathing out fire and dancing with a monkey juggling on his shoulder. She moved sideways to get a better look and bumped into a guy. He turned around, an average height, black male, with curly hair on the top of his head and none really on the sides, wearing a red jacket with black jeans and a white shirt under that.

Devante

Hi there, you kinda bumped into me there

He laughed, and she just stared

DEVANTE

Name’s Devante, what’s yours?

She continues staring at him

DEVANTE

Not much of a talker huh?

She reaches into her pocket and hands a piece of paper to him.

He reads it, then gives her a funny look and a chuckle

DEVANTE

Wild Fox? Really?

She nods, and he just shrugs it off

DEVANte

So I’m with this tour group, we’re going to check out this really old really huge swampy bayou in the middle of this town. Would you want to come?

WF pauses and thinks for a second…then nods yes.

She takes one more glance at the performer and fights through the crowd to drop a few dollars in his tip jar, before following Devante.

Dock of the Bayou Daytime

Wildfox and Devante get to the dock where they’ll take the riverboat into the bayou.

The boat driver Jerry, hopped from his boat as they approached.

Jerry

Ahhhhh, and I see we have our first two! How yall doing today?

DEVANTE

Good, very good

Jerry looks at WF, and she just nods and smiles

JERRY

Well alrighty, we got 8 more people and we’re good to go

Slowly over the next hour people started to come up to the dock. First Ryan, a tall dark haired white guy, with a beard, dressed in a t-shirt and jeans. Soon after a couple who were all over each other James and Francis, so sounded French when they talked. Then a tall blue eyed blonde girl who looked like she was from California, Kristen. John, an average height white guy who already had a beer in his hand, and seemed ready to party. A very quiet and brooding guy, with messy hair, glasses and a journal and pen in his hand, named Brody. A very tough looking hispanic girl with a thick new york accent, named Sofia. And after almost two hours had past, the last person, a really muscular body builder type, who looked middle eastern, named Toban.

Jerry

Alrighty, everyone’s here, lets get the road on the show eh?

John

Wooooo!! Lets do this baby

Then he chugs the rest of his beer.

River Daytime

JERRY

This is one of the biggest rivers in the bayou, gotta be careful around here with the gators and the snakes they’ll get you

Sofia

Uuuhhh, snakes? Nobody said nothin bout snakes, I hate snakes

Toban

Don’t worry I’ll protect you, girl

Toban makes a kissy face and tries to wrap his arms around Sofia, but she pushes him off. John chugs another beer, now on his fourth. Wildfox stares out at the water, and Ryan looks at her.

Ryan

Ever been here before?

WF looks at him and shakes her head no.

Ryan

I’ve been here once when I was a kid, not specifically this place, but Louisiana

She smiles, then Jerry interrupts them, as the come to a pass, where there are four seperate streams of the river, they go down one of the streams in the middle.

Jerry

This pass is treacherous if you don’t know where you’re goin, but lucky yall know me, it’s a nice shortcut, and we’ll be there pretty soon.

DEVANTE

Hey Jerry, got any cool stories about the bayou?

#bayou #scripts #script #louisiana #new orleans #baton rouge #horror #racism #black #white #interracial #slave #slavery #owner #master #death #murder #mystery #film #movie #movie script #film script #ghost #demon #undead #zombie

[irsdestroyer114]

Overwatch College AU Chapter 1

     “Room 117. This should be mine.” Jesse said to himself, looking at the label on the door, then the small piece of paper with his room number hastily scribbled in his messy handwriting. He took out his key and it fit into the lock. He unlocked it, pushing the door open. It was completely empty, but Jesse knew he would probably mess it up in two days. He grabbed the two large boxes he left next to his door and brought them inside, dropping them in the middle of the room. 

     “Hey, my little college boy.” His mom smiled from behind him, carrying his unopened Ikea bed and one more box. She put them down, then grabbed the cowboy hat off her head. She placed it on Jesse’s head, who smiled gratefully. 

     “You forgot this in the car.” She laughed.

     “Thanks.” Jesse smiled, his southern accent as thick as his mother's, although it didn't make them sound trashy, just intimidating.

     “This place is pretty far from Texas.” She sighed, looking out the window at the green scenery.      

     “Well, duh,” Jesse laughed. “The trip took two days.” 

     “Only because we stopped to stay in the motel.” She pointed out. Jesse nodded in agreement. “Now,” She clapped her hands together. “Let's get this room setup.” 

     “You can start on the bed. I'm goin’ to head to the car to grab the desk.” Jesse instructed, walking out the door. The hallway was busy with new college students getting their rooms ready and the older students laughing at how optimistic the new kids were. Jesse saw that his neighbour was a Brazilian boy about his age, 19, and was wearing expensive headphones, and Jesse could barely hear his music. He had brown dreads which he put into a ponytail and was wearing soccer shorts and a green tank top. Jesse worried, since his neighbour had big speakers he was moving into his room, and he definitely didn’t want to have to listen to the stuff his roommate listened to. Jesse saw the room straight ahead of him housed a beautiful blonde girl. Her bangs swooped over her face and she put the rest of her hair in a messy ponytail. She was wearing a golden flower crown and a plain white dress, which made her look like some kind of angel. The dorms housed both males and females, so there were a large variety of kids. Jesse walked down the five stairs to the outside and jogged over to the parking lot, where students saying goodbye to parents or socializing. He opened up his family’s green truck, which was now his; a college present. He grabbed the Ikea box with his desk in it and carried it out, closing the trunk, locking the doors, then making his way back to the dorms. He was struggling with the box, because any way he held it, it would either fall, or block his vision. 

     “Hey, do you need some help?” He heard a voice call. It came from a tall blonde man, and he looked like he was in his second or third year of college. 

     “Hah, yes please.” Jesse laughed. The man grabbed one side of the box, and took the front looking behind him for people. 

     “I’m guessing you're a freshman.” He smiled, his teeth straight and white. 

     “Yup. I’m guessin’ it ain’t hard to tell.” He chuckled, a deep, low chuckle. 

     “What’s your room?” He asked, climbing up the stairs, being very careful. “117. Near the end of the hall.” Jesse explained, now climbing the stairs as well. 

     “Oh, I’m right above you. Room 217. Hopefully I’m not too loud.” He turned to the right, making sure not to bump into any kids. “Hey, if you want I could help you get your room together. I have nothing better to do.” 

     “Sure. Thanks.” They walked into room 117 and set the box down. 

     “Who’s this?” Jesse’s mom smiled, the wrinkles around her eyes growing. All the parts of the bed were spread out in front of her on the brown hardwood floor. She moved a brown hair out of her face, tucking behind her ear. She stood up and held out a hand the the schoolmate to shake, and he did, his grip strong. 

     “I’m Jack Morrison. Nice to meet you ma'am.” He smiled. “I thought I would help out with assembling rooms since I have nothing better to do.” He explained. 

     “How sweet.” Mrs. Mcree smiled. She elbowed her son in the gut, making him laugh. “Learn from him.” She took a deep breath in, stretching her back.

     “While you boys build I’m goin’ to get myself a coffee. Want anything?” 

     “Nah, I’m good.” Jesse replied.

     “No thank you.” Jack smiled. Mrs. Mcree grabbed her purse and walked out, leaving the two alone. 

     “Wow,” Jesse laughed. 

     “What?” Jack sneered, kneeling down next to the parts of the bed. Jesse grabbed the instructions and squatted next to Jack. 

     “‘Ma’am?’” He laughed. “I haven’t said ma’am in years. Not since elementry.” 

     “Maybe your mom was right about you needing my help.” Jack teased. “Now what goes where?” 

     “Uh, start with the frame. Take the two longest pieces and the two shortest planks and put ‘em together in a rectangle.” He explained. He let himself fall to the ground, letting his legs fall in front of him and holding his weight with his left hand. Jack did as instructed, and a frame was made. “Now there’s this ladder looking thing-” 

     Jack held up a part of the bed. “This?” He asked.

     “Yup. Put it inside the frame.” Jack did as instructed, rolling out the planks onto the frame. 

     “Help me lift this up and put it where you want it.” Jack said, grabbing one side of the frame. Jesse grabbed the other and they hoisted it up; both grunting as they did so. 

     “Put it in that corner.” Jesse nudged with his head towards the right corner next to the door, and they placed the bed down, then pushed it against the wall. “Now, you need to put the little feet on it.” Jesse looked at the bed, thinking of how they would do it. “Help me turn it on it’s side.” They hoisted it up, and turned it to the side, now letting them put the legs on it. They both screwed in two, then placed the bed back where it was. “Now just screw in the headboard and we’re done.” He smiled. Jack screwed in the head board and got up, clapping his hands together. 

     “You need a mattress.” He pointed out. 

     “I haven't forgot.” Jesse laughed. “Mind helping me get it?” 

     “Sure.” They walked back out to the car and grabbed the twin mattress from the car, then brought it back to the dorm, dropping it into the bed. 

     “Damn, mattresses are heavy.” Jesse smiled, sitting down and catching his breath. 

     “You can say that again.” Jack laughed, sitting next to Jesse. “I never asked; What’s your name?” 

     “Jesse Mcree.” Jesse smiled, holding out his hand, and Jack shook it. They both had strong grasps, and squeezed each other’s hands tightly. “Strong grip. What’cha do as a kid to earn that?” He chuckled.

     “Working out is a good distraction.” He said simply, the corner of his mouth turning up into a small smirk. “How’d you get yours?”

     “Lived on a farm my whole life. Carrying hay everywhere and helping build a barn tends to build muscle quickly. The city’s so… Weird.” He laughed. “But I bet you think the same of the country.” 

     “Oh, no. I have always loved the country. I always went once a year to visit my grandpa before he died. It was peaceful there. And quiet. Something you don’t get much of in the city.” Jack explained. 

     “Ha, I get it. It’s going to be weird not going to sleep in perfect quiet like I usually do.” 

     “I remember one time I went to the country and me and my cousin needed to get out of the house so we slept outside. We could see every star in the sky.” 

     “Here the only damn light you’ll see is from the nearest Mcdonalds.” Jesse pointed out, Jack nodding in agreement. There was a minute of awkward silence between the two, not knowing what to talk about. 

     “I’m going to a party these people host every year on the first day of school. Wanna come?” Jack asked. 

     “That’s three days away right?” Jack nodded. “Yeah sure.” Jesse smiled. “Where is it?” 

     “The pool. It’s mainly just clubbing, something that’s not my favourite, but I am being forced to go and I didn’t want to be alone.” Jack explained. 

     “Why are you going if you don’t like clubbing?” 

     “I promised my friend I would go but I know that she’s just going to get drunk and ditch me. Her name is Lena. Maybe you’ve met her? She’s always moving around at the speed of light just to meet people.” 

     “I don’t think so. You’re really the only person I’ve talked to so far.” They opened up the desk and began to assemble it. 

     “Well she’s on this floor so I can promise you she’ll be making her rounds introducing herself and inviting people to her party.” 

     “The party’s hers?” 

     “Yeah. She mainly just plans them out. Other people usually get all the stuff together. She does help too though. She’s really nice. I think she would like you. But just watch out; she will try to get you into a relationship with everyone.” Jack laughed. “It’s just what she does.” 

     “What who does?” A voice called from the doorway. It belonged to a female with a peppy british accent. 

     “Speak of the devil.” Jack smiled, playfully rolling his eyes. They both turned around to see a girl about Jack’s age with spiky brown hair. She was wearing light black leggings and a tan aviator jacket with a UK flag patch on the sleeve.

     “Jesse, this is Lena. Lena, this is Jesse.” She jumped over to them, sitting next to them. She held out her hand, which Jesse shook wearily from her energy. 

     “Hiya!” She smiled, adjusting her thick glasses. 

     “How much coffee did you have?” Jesse asked, raising one eyebrow. 

     “None.” She smiled. “You should come to my party. It on Wednesday; first day of school.” 

     “Jack told me ‘bout it. I’ll be there.” Jesse smirked. 

     “Are you a cowboy?” Lena asked, bouncing up and down like a giddy child. “Uh, no. But I did work on a farm. My farm raised horses, not cows, though.” Jesse explained, adjusting his hat and continuing to build the desk with Jack.

     “Lena you don’t just ask people if they’re cowboys.” Jack asked, almost like a father to her. 

     “What are you majoring in?” Lena asked. “Or are you here for the military program like Jack?”

     “Robotics. You?”

     “Computer science. What period is your robotics class? The computer science classroom is right next door.”

     “Third period.” Jesse answered, needing to search his brain first. 

     “Hey, my robotics class is third period too.” Jack exclaimed. “We can walk together.”

     “My computer science period is third too. We’ll be the best clique college friendship ever.” She said, making the rest of them laugh.

     “My , my.” Jesse’s mom chuckled. “People are attracted to you like a magnet, Jesse.” 

     “I guess so.” Jesse smirked. 

     “Be a good influence on my son.” She whispered to Jack and Lena, both of them laughing and nodding. “He sure as hell needs it.” She turned and saw the bed. “Oh hey! Y’all got the bed done already!” She took a sip of coffee. “Need any help? I should probably get going soon.”

     “Nah,” Jesse smiled, getting up to talk to his mom. “So, see you.. This winter?” 

     “Yeah.” She looked like she might cry. 

     He brought her into a hug. “Oh don’t go cryin’ on me. You already did this with Ricky. You promised you would only have one water show.” He laughed. “Plus, you got Lila back at home. Not all your birdies have left the nest.”

     “I know. It just feels like yesterday-” She began.

     “Nope.” Jesse chuckled, cutting her off. “Ricky said you talkin’ ‘bout that made you cry.” He hugged her again, then turned back to his new friends. “I gotta drive her to the airport, so y’all should probably go to someone else’s dorm. 

     “Okie dokie!” Lena smiled. Her and Jack got up, finding a new place to hang out. Just as Jack turned out of the doorway, he poked his head back out. “When you get back, find us in dorm 217. Right above yours. We’ll finish your desk then.” He instructed. 

     “Will do.” Jesse said, tipping his hat as a goodbye.

     Jesse dropped his mom off at the airport, and she gave him her red poncho as a goodbye present and she only shed one tear. He drove back to the college, which wasn’t too far from the airport and went up the stairs and knocked on the door to room 217. Lena opened the door, and hugged him as a greeting. “You got a fancy new poncho. Wasn’t your mum wearing it?” She asked. 

     “Yeah. Goodbye present.” Jesse explained. Jack pushed himself up, walking to the door way. 

     “Let’s build a desk!” He smiled. 

     The three of them walked down the stairs and walked into Jesse’s room, which looked exactly as they left it, desk pieces scattered everywhere and boxes in piles. They finished up the desk, chatting as they did so. Jesse looked around at the boxes and sighed. “I’m too lazy to unpack my shit now so, what do you want to do?” 

     “Would you loves mind going with me to plan some stuff for the party? I know it’s not the most interesting thing to do but I really need to get it done.” Lena suggested, rubbing her arm. 

     “Sure. I ain’t got nothin’ better to do.” Jesse replied, standing up. 

     “Same here.” Jack chimed in, standing up as well. He grabbed Lena’s arm, pulling her up. “Where are we heading?” 

     “We need to talk to Sombra about the lighting and syncing it to the music; then we need to stop by Hana’s place to talk about music.” She paused to think, rubbing her chin. “Oh yeah! Some new kid wanted to DJ for the party so I need to check out his stuff. Oh, also we need to stop by Hanzo’s place to check on the setup of the party. Plus I want to meet his little brother.” 

     “I have no clue who those people are.” Jesse chuckled. 

     “Well now you get to meet them!” Lena smiled. “Now let’s hear out this new DJ since he’s next door.” They left Jesse’s dorm, Jesse locking the door behind him then they stopped in front of room 115. Jack knocked on the door, and once a short freshman opened the door. 

     “Hey. Need anything?” He asked, not recognizing Jack. Lena poked out from behind Jack, since he was much taller, and the boy smiled, recognizing her. “Oh hey Lena. Here to hear my stuff?” 

     “Yup.” She smiled, bouncing back and forth on her feet. 

     “Well come on in.” The boy smiled, inviting them in. “By the way, the name’s Lucio. You guys?”

     “Jesse Mcree.” Jesse introduced, tipping his hat. 

     “Jack Morrison. Nice to meet you.” He held out his hand, and Lucio took it, shaking it energetically. Jesse walked towards Jack, and leaned towards his ear, speaking in a low voice.

     “Sorry for askin’ this of you but,” He scratched his arm uncomfortably. “Would you mind sitting outside with me to smoke? Or at least show me places where I’m allowed to smoke.” His hand was hidden behind his poncho, hiding the pack of cigarettes. 

     “Anytime.” He turned to Lucio and Lena, who were getting the music set up. “We’re going outside for a bit. We shouldn’t be too long.” He explained. 

     “You two have fun out there.” She winked. “Oh, and remember. Not too much PDA.” 

     “Gross.” Jack smiled, holding the door open for Jesse. They went out of the room and shut the door behind them, then stepped outside. 

     “Thanks.” Jesse smiled awkwardly, not knowing what to say. 

     “No problem. And don’t mind Lena. She likes to joke around.” He looked around, trying to pull something from his thoughts. “Oh yeah. The smoking area is near the pool. Follow me.” Jack led him through the campus to the pool, which was a large building filled with chattering students. They walked around to the back and sat on the stairs to the side door no one ever used. Jesse grabbed a cigarette out with his  mouth, pulling out a lighter with his other hand. He lit the cigarette, covering it as he did so, then put the lighter and pack of cigs back. 

     “Sorry. This is probably disgusting.” He sighed, taking in a deep breath of tobacco and air. “I didn’t want to be addicted. I just-”

     “It’s okay, I don’t mind. If you really want I could come with you whenever you want to smoke. It’s really no big deal.” Jack offered.

     “No. It’s  gross and I don’t want you gettin’ sick from the shit.” He took another deep breath in, then brought the cigarette away from his lips, blowing out. “I never realised I would get hooked once I did it.”

     “Why did you do it in the first place?” Jack asked, staring into Jesse’s smokey eyes. 

     “I thought it was a good distraction. And it was. The bullies didn’t get to me as much. Sad thoughts weren’t as  sad. Then the fuckin’ things took over my goddamned life.” He explained. “I started when I was 14. I was sad one night and didn’t have anyone to get drunk with so I took my dad’s cigarettes and smoked half the pack. My parents still don’t even know about it.” 

     “I’m sorry,” Jack sighed, looking down at his hands. 

     “For what? You ain’t done nothin’.” 

     “I’m sorry about what happened to you. I get how you feel. The sadness and bullies. And I know what addictions feel like.” He fiddled with his hands nervously, wondering if they were sharing too much information. 

     “What’s your addiction?” Jesse asked, looking over at Jack but not moving his head. 

     “I’d rather not say. Sorry.” 

     “It’s cool. Life’s a bitch. That why you’ve gotta punch it in the nose.” He chuckled, punching the air. “So, military, eh?”

     “Yeah. I thought I would follow my grandpa’s footsteps.” He sighed. “I guess it’s comforting knowing that maybe if I do the same things as the guy I’ll end up like he did. In a good place.”

     “I know how you feel. But at the same time I worry if I do the things my family does I’ll end up just like them, and that scares me.” They paused, a silence growing faster and faster. “Fuck. We are depressing.” Jesse laughed. 

     “So I’ve been told.” Jack laughed along with him, both of them happy they found someone similar to one another. 

     “Just wondering, does Lena do that thing with everyone? Or is it just you?” Jack asked,, taking another breath of deadly substance, slowly turning his lungs black. 

     “Yeah. I used to think it was because she was lonely herself but she has a girlfriend now and still does it.” He shrugged. “I guess she finds it fun. Who knows.”

     “Lena is quite the mystery.”

     They chatted until Jesse finished his cigarette, laughing to each others jokes and telling tales from childhood. Once Jesse finished, he flicked it onto the ground, stomping out the embers. “Let’s go back.” Jack nodded and they began walking back to the dorm. On the walk back, Jesse began to study the perfect details of Jack’s face. His sharp eyebrows, his defined jaw, the way his hair was perfect without the use of products. Jesse brought himself out of his thoughts, knowing he shouldn’t fall for someone when school  hadn’t even started yet. He just couldn’t help but allow himself small glances, which turned to stares. 

     “We’re back.” Jack smiled, opening the door which was unlocked. 

     “Great! We just finished up.” Lena turned around to face Lucio, and pat him on the back. “Can”t wait to see him be the next greatest DJ at the party.” She turned around and walked towards the door. “See ya!” She smiled, and the three left. 

     “What’s next?” Jesse asked, playing with his new poncho. 

     “Hanzo, since he’s just down the hall.” Lena declared, starting down the hall. The two boys followed, and many people greeted Jack and Lena as they passed by. “I can’t wait to meet his little brother! He sounds awesome!” She squealed.

     “You only know his name.” Jack pointed out, his eyebrows drawing together. 

     “But Genji sounds like a cool name. Plus if he’s anything like Hanzo he’s cool.” She smiled.

     “Genji does sound like a legit name.” Jesse smirked, adding into the conversation. “I wouldn’t start a fight with someone named Genji.” 

     “Just don’t start a fight with the Shimadas. They are intense. Whole family trained in martial arts. It’s their entire reputation.” Jack explained. They walked up to room 100 and knock on the door, the sounds of angry yelling stopping as they heard the knocks. A boy with bright green, spiked up hair answers the door, smiling awkwardly. 

     “My brother’s doing some work, so I go inside and I’ll be heading out.” He said quickly, obviously wanting to get out. The three shrugged and headed inside.

#overwatch #overwatch college au #mccree #genji #solider 76 #lucio #hanzo #tracer #sombra