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lucyintheskywithxanax · 3 years

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Get Me To Church, I’ve Done So Many Bad Things It Hurts

Pairing: Wilhemina Venable x Fem Reader

A/N: you guys, idk what this is. I only know it’s not what I initially planned. Title is from Sinéad O’Connor’s song “Take Me To Church”, which hijacked this story’s initial plot. It reminds me of Wilhemina, and it’s a very good song <3

Word count: ~ 5 400

Your brain no longer was a brain but fucking mush. Mush that stunk and made one want to throw up at first sight. You had not been able to get a good night’s sleep since you had been sent to Outpost 3 a few months ago. You were running on a few hours of rest snatched here and there and on the disgusting, weird food cubes. At this point, when someone talked to you, you would gap at them until your brain suddenly gave a start and registered their words. Your body felt twice its weight. It was hard to concentrate, hard to think.

Days went by looking exactly alike. You would get out of bed, meet the others, try to have a talk, listen to the same song over and over again. “Calling occupants of interplanetary, most extraordinary craft”. Stare at a book maybe, open it, stare at a page, fail to understand a single sentence. You would wait for time to pass. Complain with Coco or Andre or that guy whose name you couldn’t remember even though you had been living together for months now. One day, Coco and you decided to exercise by running up and down a staircase, but you didn’t last more than five minutes before you dropped on the floor, panting. You didn’t try again. You lacked the motivation.

Sit at the table, eat your cube. “Calling occupants of interplanetary, most extraordinary craft”. Go to bed. You were going crazy. You could no longer tell what was real and what was a figment of your imagination.

In truth, there was one thing at least you knew was real. The butterflies in your stomach every time Venable – freaking Venable, of all people – so much as walked into the room you were in.

It was terrible. Why her, why you, you did not know. The only thing you knew was that you were falling hard for her, for that sadistic, mean, scary woman.

In typical mush-brain fashion, you couldn’t string two sentences together when she would ask you a question and her dark eyes would bore into you. You would laugh stupidly or give one-word answers. You would trip over your own feet when you passed her in a corridor.

So, really, it wasn’t a surprise when you realized that she hated you even more than she seemed to hate the others. For starters, she never looked at you. When she did, her eyes were as cold as the North Pole. Icy winds and all that. And when she talked to you, her voice was always so condescending, so sarcastic, as if she knew you were the most idiotic idiot at the Outpost. She probably wondered every minute of every day why you had been chosen to survive. It was a mystery to you, too.

But then – but this was part of your imagination. It must be. There was no rational explanation. For the wistful look on her face you had caught a glimpse of, once, when you had turned and shot her a glance. She had been staring at you. Or for the faint blush that had risen to her cheeks when you had accidentally – accidentally? – brushed past her, way too close to her, on your hurried way to the bathroom. Or for that one time, that blissful, ethereal time – but that had been a dream, it must have been, you had passed out from exhaustion and dreamed – when she, coming out of her room, and you of yours, had paused with her hand on the doorknob, and raised her head, met your eyes, and smiled. Not her mocking, cruel smile. But a fond, almost shy smile. A genuine smile, reflected in her eyes. This you were sure you had dreamed. Were you?

You were falling for her. Love, intimacy, would make things more tolerable. You craved a strong, true connection with someone, and part of you was convinced you could have it with her.

In the past few evenings Venable had made a habit of joining you in the music room as you whiled the time away before bed. She wouldn’t say anything, merely sit and read a book. The first time she had done it, you and the others had exchanged half surprised, half worried looks. What was she doing? Studying you? Deciding which one of you she would cook for dinner? You didn’t know. Her presence had made you all uncomfortable at first, but now you were used to it. You ignored her, just as she ignored you.

She always, always sat facing you.

And you couldn’t help but steal glances at her. Marvel at the beauty and neatness of her. Your eyes would travel down her body and the butterflies in your stomach would go wild and your head fill with want. For. Her.

Her eyes never met yours, not even once.

One evening as you sat brooding and she sat reading facing you, and the others chatted about some boring things, and the music, the music went “Calling occupants of interplanetary, most extraordinary craft”, you abruptly jumped on your feet to stretch your upper body. The sudden movement surprised Venable, who looked up at you. You met her eyes and gave her a goofy smile. She scowled.

“In your mind you have capacities,” you heard yourself sing to the music.

“But do you, Y/N?” Venable sneered.

That shut you up. You straightened up and glared at her. “Do you have, like, a problem with me?” you asked in an annoyed voice.

“Do you mean apart from your obvious lack of brain cells?”

“Why are you always so mean?” you heard yourself whine.

“Oh, boo hoo,” Venable cooed. “Poor you. Look at you, standing among the few who have been allowed to survive the Apocalypse. Do you really think I should feel sorry for you?”

You considered that. “No,” you grumbled.

“No, Ms Venable.”

You didn’t know what came over you then. Probably it was a mix of exhaustion, anger, frustration and want. Your hands clenched into fists. In what was both the bravest and stupidest moment of your life, you retorted, “Bite me.”

Someone in the room gasped, and then chuckled. Venable’s eyes went wide with shock. Heat flooded your cheeks.

You were dead meat, you knew that. So really you couldn’t make things worse by adding: “I’m sorry. I meant, bite me, Ms Venable.”

Impressive. You were a genius. Gosh, you needed sleep.

You couldn’t meet Venable’s eyes. Instead you stared at Andre, who was gawping at you. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Coco give you a thumbs-up. You smiled shyly at her.

“Right,” you said. “Um. Goodnight.”

You hurried out of the room before someone could call you back. Your heart was beating too fast in your chest, but you couldn’t really understand why. You needed sleep.

You closed the door of your bedroom behind you and collapsed on your bed.

You couldn’t sleep.

It was always the same: you were exhausted all day, but the minute your head touched your pillow, your brain roared back into life. Someone in your head turned the light on. You were wide awake.

You groaned and turned on the bed. You didn’t have the slightest idea what time it was or how long you had lain under the sheet. It could have been ten minutes, it could have been a century. You turned again, forced yourself to close your eyes.

Bite me, Ms Venable. Damn it, you were such a fool when you were exhausted! You had survived the bloody Apocalypse and now you were about to die for something so, so stupid. Venable was probably plotting your death right now. She would order you out of the Outpost and condemn you to a horrible death among the repugnant creatures that haunted the nuclear winter outside. In your current state, you wouldn’t last a day. You’d trip over something and break your neck or get stabbed by the first hungry person you’d meet.

Fear clenched your stomach. You didn’t want to die. You didn’t feel like giving up on life yet. Even if the world as you had known it was gone, even if there was almost no hope of a bright, safe future. God, you wanted to live.

You sprang out of bed before you knew what you were doing and ran to the door. Locked it. Looked around the room for things to build a barricade with. The chair would do, and if you could move that huge chest of drawers –

You heard footsteps coming down the corridor towards you. And something else, unmistakable. The sound of a cane.

Shit. Your whole body froze with fear. Then your hand automatically reached for a decorative statuette close-by, that had sharp angles and that you could use as a weapon if need be. The footsteps grew louder and came to a halt at your door.

You waited, heart hammering in your chest. Venable must have a spare key, of course she must. You stared at the doorknob, expecting it to move, expecting the door to open, on Venable standing tall and threatening and radiating off anger and satisfaction. How so very beautiful she would look.

Nothing happened.

What was she doing? You couldn’t hear anything but the mad pounding of your heart. Had you imagined her footsteps? The sound of her cane? But you had been so sure –

One of your hands came up to press against the door. Fingers splayed out, palm pressing against the cold, hard surface. To try and feel her through the wood.

You waited. Your heartbeat was drumming against the wood. And it was slowing down, and your eyes were fluttering closed, for she was here – just behind the door, and you could almost see her, her eyes on the doorknob, the spare key in her hand, her lips slightly parted. It was as if your soul had connected with hers and now they were softly singing to each other.

There was a sound like a sigh. Before you knew it you had unlocked the door and opened it.

Venable stood in front of you with her left hand in the air, a few inches further to the left than yours had been. She met your eyes in surprise as her fingers curled up. She lowered her hand, and schooled her features.

You decided your safest option was to play it cool.

“I thought I heard a noise,” you said, assuming a casual expression.

“I was on my way to bed,” Venable answered. A pause. “I saw your light was on through the gap under your door.”

She didn’t sound particularly mad or threatening. Relief flooded your chest. Maybe she didn’t mean to kill you, after all. Maybe you’d been over-reacting.

Her eyes fell on the statuette you were still holding.

“What’s this?” she asked very slowly. Her eyes met yours again. They were dark, her eyes. The darkest eyes you had ever seen.

“What’s this?” she repeated, louder. You started.

“Oh, uh.” You raised the statuette to your chest and shrugged. Play it cool. “I don’t know why I’m holding this.” You tried to laugh. It came out nervous and foolish. “Must have been sleepwalking or something.”

Venable’s gaze was boring into you, piercing your skin, piercing your veins, piercing your bones. You felt too hot suddenly. You laughed again. Then it finally dawned on you.

“My light isn’t on,” you said.

You always kept one candle burning when you slept, but its light was very faint. There was no way Venable could have seen it from the lit corridor.

Her face didn’t change. “It’s not?” she said in a toneless voice.

You shook your head. “I’m afraid not.”

She straightened her shoulders, raised her chin. Her grip on her cane tightened just so.

“Were you planning on attacking someone with this?” she asked, nodding at the statuette.

“I’ve no idea what you mean,” you answered, holding her gaze.

“I cannot think of any other use you could have for it.”

“Well, maybe I was.”

“Has someone threatened you?”

You scoffed. Gave her a look as if to say the joke wasn’t good. She narrowed her eyes uncomprehendingly.

“Um, let’s see.” You folded your arms as you pretended to think. The statuette dug in your chest. “Maybe I’ve gone just a little bit too far with someone who’s quite obsessed with hierarchy.”

A small, incredulous laugh escaped her.

“You thought I was going to –“She didn’t finish her sentence, her laugh lingering on her lips as the incredulity reached her eyes.

“Well,” you retorted, leaning your hip against the doorframe, “you did have those two Greys shot the other day for making love.” You raised your eyebrows at her. “For breaking one of your rules. So excuse me if I’m not feeling particularly safe right now.”

The smile vanished from her face. She closed her mouth, stared at you. Your eyes shifted to her lips. Back up to her eyes. You licked your lips.

“I wouldn’t have you killed merely for being stupid,” she said after a short moment.

How were her cheekbones so sharp? Her eyes so dark? You swore whomever had made her was the most talented artist and the cruelest asshole in the whole goddamn universe. How many years it must have taken, how much sweat, how many skills, how much patience and love, to make her.

You cleared your throat. What had she just said? Called you stupid. Wouldn’t have you killed. Something like that. You couldn’t remember.

“My light wasn’t on,” you said mechanically, “so why did you stop at my door?”

If the question surprised or unsettled her, she didn’t show it.

“I thought it was on,” she answered without missing a beat. She paused. “You thought I was going to have you killed?”

“Um, maybe.”

Her eyes fell on the statuette again. When they met yours, you swore you saw something like sadness deep into the black. She blinked, and the sadness disappeared.

“It’s getting late,” she said. “You should go to bed.”

You realized you didn’t want her to go. What if you invited her to come in? What if you told her about your insomnia, and asked her to help you while the night away? Merely have a talk with her. Merely sit by her side, and watch her, and share secrets with her. Show her you weren’t as stupid as she must think you were. You could light dozens of candles and watch the light dance on her face. Have her relax, make her laugh. And maybe if things went well, at the break of dawn you could lay your head on her lap, and certainly then sleep would find you.

You assumed a nonchalant expression. “Well then, goodnight to you,” you said with a smile that hurt your mouth.

She nodded, turned and walked off.

You listened to her footsteps fade away. You let out a long, shaky breath, and closed your door.

For a very long time you stayed with your back against the door, staring unseeingly at the ceiling. The sadness you had seen in Venable’s eyes haunted you. You tried to think of something else. What you would do tomorrow. Boring. That summer holiday you had spent in Spain with your best-friend. Venable’s hair in the flickering light of the candles. Venable’s face. Venable’s eyes. How you absolutely adored the fact that she could stand up to anyone. Venable’s eyes. The sadness in her eyes.

You groaned. You had half a mind to bang your head on the door to knock yourself out and finally get some sleep. Perhaps you could go to Venable’s room and apologise. Tell her you hadn’t meant to question her authority. You’d like to see her again.

It was a stupid idea. Lack of sleep made you so, so stupid. She would be angry, would order you out, slam her door in your face, maybe hit you with her cane. You shouldn’t. You wouldn’t.

You tip-toed down the corridor till you reached her door. It was slightly ajar, which surprised you. Heart beating fast, you opened it just enough to peek into the room.

Venable was sitting on the floor by the dark fireplace, her head bent, her hands joined on her lap. What was she doing on the floor? Surely the position couldn’t be good for her back. Then you noticed that her lips were moving, forming silent words, as if she were praying. Her eyes were closed.

The flickering light from the candles threw shadows on her face. Patches of black and red and orange vacillating and oscillating. Touching her face, fleeing to the walls. You watched her in silence, at a loss for what to do or what to think. You heard her sniffle, saw her raise a hand to wipe her cheek.

There was something so fragile about the scene in front of you. To see this woman who was always so proud, and so strong, and so dominating, murmuring silent words to herself on the floor in the dead of night. Or maybe those words weren’t for herself. Maybe they were addressed to someone else, whoever would listen, whoever would take the time to stop and lend an ear. Was she asking for strength? For mercy? Salvation? Her back was leaning slightly forward just like the backs of worshippers you had seen in churches.

Her lips stopped moving for a moment. She opened her eyes to stare unseeingly at the wall in front of her. You saw her bite her lower lip, saw her take a shaky breath. The silent murmuring started again.

You scratched your arm nervously. You knew you should leave, and erase from your mind this private moment you had no right to witness. Part of you felt like a thief. But your legs seemed to be frozen. You could not move them.

So you watched her. At one point she coughed softly, and the next two words came out loud enough for you to hear them: “Let me...”

Was she praying? You didn’t think she was a religious person. Why should she be? She had helped bring on the Apocalypse and had not received so much as a word of complaint from God. You squinted at her in the dim light, your body instinctively leaning towards her, your hands coming up to grip at the doorframe. Your heart was pushing against your ribs as if it wished to burst free from your chest and wrap around her.

Venable paused, sighed, went on murmuring. Once again her words reached you. “…soothe and let it save me so she can think it acceptable to love me.”

Your clammy palm slipped on the doorframe, unbalancing you. You gasped in a breath. Venable’s head jerked to the side. Her eyes locked with yours.

You could have screamed. Surprise then anger then fear flashed across Venable’s face as you took a step back, your mouth opening and closing like a fish as you tried to find something to say but couldn’t come up with anything. For a moment there was only silence, and you and she holding each other’s gaze.

Venable’s face closed up. She stood up, supporting herself on her cane, so calm, so composed. It was impressive, the tight grip she kept on her emotions. Always so perfectly in control of herself.

“What are you doing here?” she asked in a firm voice.

“I –“you stuttered, “I – I’m sorry, I just – I, uh, saw your light was on.”

That was a risky answer, and you knew it. But today had been crazy, and any minute now Venable would unleash her wrath and it would destroy you. You had nothing left to lose. So you held her gaze, her inscrutable, unreadable gaze, admiring even now the flickers of candlelight that danced across the black.

“I couldn’t sleep,” you heard yourself say, your voice coming from far, far away. “I’ve not been able to sleep for quite a while. So I roam the corridors to try and distract myself, and I saw your light was on.” A pause. “What were you doing?”

Venable’s expression didn’t change. She took her time to answer, and you waited, waited for the inevitable anger, the inevitable punishment. You felt too distanced from yourself to be afraid.

“That is none of your business,” Venable said eventually. She turned away from you. “Go back to your room.”

That brought you back to yourself. Your soul crashed back into your body.

“Is that all?” you blurted out. “Go back to my room? Aren’t you going to, like,…” You didn’t finish your sentence, but she must have understood, because she turned to face you and shot you a somewhat outraged look.

“You seem so very certain I mean to hurt you,” she said sharply.

“Er, well.” You folded your arms on your chest and looked up at the ceiling, pretending to think. “In the last few hours I disrespected you and burst into your privacy. And, no offence, but you don’t strike me as a kitten kind of person.”

“Kitten?” she repeated.

“Yeah, you know.” You brought a nervous hand up to scratch your head. “Fluffy and cute, cuddly and helpless.”

She stared at you as if you were stupid. “Kittens scratch you for no reason.”

“Yeah, but...”You shook your head at yourself.”Never mind, don’t mind me. I’m too exhausted to think straight.”

Long seconds passed. None of you moved. You both held your ground, staring at each other. Waiting.

Your mouth opened again. “I don’t know whether I should run away from you or towards you.”

She didn’t react. Didn’t answer. She kept staring at you.

“I can’t sleep,” you repeated. “May I stay here and sleep with you?”

Her expression did shatter at that. She blinked in surprise, then in consternation.

“Uh, I mean, not like that,” you stammered. “I mean sleep as in actually sleep. Uh, get some shuteye.”

Venable let out another one of her small, incredulous laughs. “No, you may not,” she answered sharply.

“Right, of course. Stupid me.” You tried to laugh, ended up choking on your own spit.”Sorry. Uh, forget about all this.” You quickly turned to go.

“You need to get a grip on yourself,” came Venable’s voice. You stopped.

“Gosh, I know,” you breathed.”I’m sorry.” You waited. No reply came, so you started to walk away.

“I may have a few sleeping pills, if you think they can help,” Venable called after you.

You turned on your heel and rushed back into her room. “Yes, please, I’d be very grateful. Thank you.”

Venable nodded, walked into the ensuite bathroom. You heard the sound of a drawer opening, some fumbling, and then she was back into the room holding a small pill box.

She dropped one pill in your extended hand. “Try this tonight. I can give you more tomorrow if it works.”

“Thank you,” you breathed. Your fingers curled around the pill as her eyes bore into yours. You almost reached out to touch her cheek. Almost.

But then your breath hitched. For that was it, wasn’t it? Her punishment. Her revenge. You glanced down at the pill in your hand. Poison. It had to be.

You glanced back up at her, and your thoughts must have shown on your face, for her eyes momentarily glazed over with the same sadness as before.

“This is hydroxyzine,” she snapped.

“Right,” you mumbled. “Thanks.”

“Do you think some of my rules are too harsh?” she asked suddenly.

You blinked at her. “Well, I mean…” You paused a second, considering. You chose honesty.” Most of them are useful, I’ll give you that. But, Ms Venable, the copulation rule? People being shot for, what, loving each other? Finding comfort in each other?” You took one step towards her, growing irritated. “Those two Greys didn’t deserve death. They did nothing wrong. And what’s so bad about copulation, anyway? What’s so wrong with affection? Intimacy?”

You paused, waiting for her answer. Her eyes were very big and shining in the candlelight. They were different, now. It was that sadness again. She looked almost sad.

“Tell me, what’s wrong with this?” You reached out and laid the pad of your index on her right wrist. She tensed up, her hand tightening around the knob of her cane. Her eyes grew bigger still.

You swallowed, refusing to lower your gaze, as you slowly ran your finger down her hand, circled one of her knuckles, moved to the next. You could feel her shaking under your touch, her skin soft and hot.

“This never hurt anyone,” you said softly. Her brow tightened, just so. She made as if to withdraw her hand from your touch. Your finger stuttered, your eyes questioning hers. Well, maybe affection had hurt her. Undoubtedly it had. You could read it in her eyes.

You removed your hand, but she captured it in hers and brought it up close to her mouth.

“We cannot possibly take the risk of having to deal with a herd of babies, can we, Y/N?” she said very slowly. Her breath grazed your knuckles and sent a shiver down your spine. Her grip on your hand was strong.

“We can’t, Wilhemina,” you heard yourself say.

Wilhemina. How did you remember her Christian name? She had told it to you exactly once, on the day of your arrival at the Outpost. Months ago. And it wasn’t a very common name.

“But then again, Wilhemina,” you went on, “you and I would never have this problem.”

Venable brought your hand up to her mouth, her gaze burning into yours, and sank her teeth into your skin.

“Ow!” you yapped. “What the…”

She tightened her grip on your hand to hold it back. A smirk crept up her lips.

“Bite me,” she said, her mouth hot and damp against your skin. “That’s what you said. So, here.” She did let go of your hand, then. You held it protectively to your chest, smoothing it over your shirt. “Happy to oblige.” She turned away from you.

You watched her in consternation as she bent over her bed, apparently rearranging the pillows. Her teeth had left a row of white marks on your hand. A moment passed, until she straightened up and met your eyes.

“Well, goodnight,” she said, almost teasingly. And with that she sent you off.

“You’re still alive,” Coco said in surprise the morning after.

“You’re very observant,” you mumbled, slumping onto the chair next to her. You still felt a bit woolly because of the hydroxyzine. But at least you had slept.

“You’ve been observing our Earth”, sang the female voice from the radio.

“This song will drive me crazy,” you groaned. “Can’t we turn it off?”

“And we’d like to make a contact with you,” the voice retorted.

You straightened your shoulders as Venable walked into the room. Her gaze immediately fell on you. You held it, not sure what to think of the night before, her helping you, her biting you for God’s sake – mechanically you massaged the back of your hand where her teeth had sunk. And those words you had overhead. They had been addressed to someone else, but you couldn’t help but hope she had been talking about you.

You thought you saw something in her eyes, eagerness perhaps, as she walked towards you. She stopped in front of you and tapped her cane on the floor.

“Good-morning,” she said. You gave her a smile in answer, then lowered your eyes to study your nails. You could feel her gaze on your face.

“How did you sleep?” she went on in a casual voice that sounded just a tiny bit strained, as if she were uncomfortable or nervous.

You squinted at her, fighting back an amused smile. “I slept well, thank you.”

You were vaguely aware of the hush that had fallen upon the room. There was more to it, too, some sort of tension, expectant and apprehensive, a holding of one’s breath as one waits for something the nature of which one isn’t really certain of.

“We’ve been observing your Earth, and one night we’ll make a contact with you,” the robotic, distorted alien voice burst out.

“Good,” Venable answered. “I am glad to hear that.”

A pause. The pause stretched.

“Maybe now some of my brain cells will finally kick back into life, “you prompted.

Venable blinked. “We can only hope so,” she answered after a while.

The smile you had been holding back danced across your lips. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Coco shoot you a perplexed look, saw her contort her face as if to ask, “what the hell is happening?”

Venable’s cane tapped on the floor. “Everyone, please,” she called, “I have an announcement to make. Some good news for you all.”

Excited whispers filled the room. You straightened in your seat. Venable waited until she had everyone’s attention, and then spoke with pride in her voice. “To renew with tradition and entertain you, we will now have board games nights. Whist, backgammon, chess.”

Was she… actually trying to be nice? Giving you all something to look forward to? A bit of fun, to help pass the time? You almost gawked at her.

She’s trying, a voice whispered in your head. What was it she had said? Make it acceptable to love her. You were vaguely aware of the tears that sprang to your eyes.

“Excuse me,” Coco blurted out, “I thought you’d said ‘good news’, not ‘you’re now officially living in a shitty Jane Austen novel’.”

Venable glared at her. You caught just a flash of pain in her eyes.

“I think it’s a good idea,” you retorted before Venable had time to. “It’ll keep our minds distracted.”

“I don’t even know what whist and backgammon are,” said Andre. “And I’ve never played chess.”

“Of course you haven’t,” Venable sneered. “It will be the perfect opportunity to inject some knowledge into your vacuous brain.”

“Not as vacuous as that,” Andre retorted angrily, “seeing as you filled it with my boyfriend’s own brain.”

You had never seen Andre stand up to Venable before. Like the others, he had been too scared of her to dare contradict her. But now his voice was openly belligerent, his eyes shooting daggers at her, and his hands gripped the arms of his chair as if he were contemplating standing up. Something had changed, and it didn’t take you long to realize you were the cause. Or rather, Venable’s behavior to you. You had been insolent to her, and she had not punished you. She had not even verbally abused you.

“What will it take,” Venable enunciated, “for you to finally understand me when I say that I did not feed you Stu?”

“Then where is he?” Andre growled, jumping to his feet, “And what was in the fucking stew?”

“Alright, okay, calm down,” you spoke, rising too, and holding out a hand in front of Andre. “I’ll teach you chess, okay? I know chess, I can teach you. Just, relax, man. Gosh.”

Andre glared at you. You raised your eyebrows at him. For a minute he stayed still, hands clenched into fists, and then he let out a breath and moved back to his chair.

Coco threw her hands up in the air. “Board games nights it is,” she said sarcastically.

You turned to Venable. She was studying you, her expression strange, as if she could not quite decide between anger and gratefulness.

“Miss Y/L/N,” she said, her eyes locked with yours, “I do not need your help when it comes to dealing with idiots.”

You took your time to answer, to think of the right words to say. A smile crept up your lips again, and this time you let it.

And you knew everyone in the room would be able to hear you. But you didn’t care. Blame it on the hydroxyzine. Blame it on the freaking interplanetary and most extraordinary occupants. The world had ended. You were exhausted. And you were falling for her.

When you spoke, your voice was a singsong, as insolent as it had been the evening before. “Why, fuck me, Ms Venable. I know that.”

#ahs #ahs imagines #sarah paulson #sarah paulson x reader #wilhemina venable #wilhemina venable x reader #fics

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ohbeaby · 4 years

Text

So the all of the boys we have met really are just rich. The only one who isn’t is probably Mammon but even he is only in debt due to some of his strange spending habits.

So this is just a silly little thought about how the boys might react to an MC who isn’t very rich at all and has habits to save money.

Clothes:

While they all take decent care of their clothes they also tend to just throw them out if a hole is made or a stain appears. Belphie might keep his longer out of sheer laziness but it’s not like he’s trying to fix any of the issues with his clothes he’s just too lazy to go get more.

MC probably has a small sewing kit and some tricks to get stains out of just about any fabric. The brothers try to throw clothes away and Mc swoops in your save the lightly used fabric from the garbage. They also have a small collection of patches and fabric strips that they give to Levi if he needs extra material for his cosplays. All the saved clothes get returned to the brothers who are very confused as to how the holes all got patched up and WHY MC would bother patching them.

This spills over into Purgatory Hall when MC learns Solomon keeps ruining his clothes in different disasters. The issue is the word disaster clearly has different meanings to everyone because MC just about loses it when they learn that the “disastrous” state of his clothes is just some tears and some small spots where a potion spilled.

All the boys confront MC at some point about why they keep fixing their clothes and MC just explains that they find it wasteful to throw the fabrics away when they could easily be repaired and maintained. They’re all mildly impressed but don’t say anything, though there is a distinct lack of clothes being thrown away after everything is done and some even come to MC for repairs.

Food/Soaps/Jewelry/Bedding:

So when MC first got there no one really paid attention to what they were buying for themselves. The brothers simply didn’t care because it’s just some human. As they get to know MC more though they start to pay attention and realize that MC isn’t exactly buying the highest quality in anything. I imagine Lucifer might be the first to actually say something.

MC: I think I want to get some hot coco.

Lucifer: Yes that doesn’t sound nice. Some milk and cream with coco powder- What are you doing?

MC: *holding up a box of instant hot coco* This is what I usually get. Just add some hot water and it’s okay.

Lucifer: *internally screaming at how terrible that sounds compared to what he was imagining* Do you...not know how to make hot coco?

MC: *laughing* Oh I know! It’s just more expensive than this.

Lucifer makes sure to accompany them on their grocery shopping trips and tries to get them to be a bit more open to buying more expensive cuts of meat or cheeses. He just wants them to enjoy some of the nicer things they feel comfortable indulging in.

Asmodeous probably has a heart attack when he realizes MC is just buying the most affordable shampoos and body washes. Poor boy isn’t able to comprehend that MC doesn’t want to drop 100’s of dollars on soaps.

Asmo: But look at how many harsh chemicals are in there MC! Your poor hair isn’t going to feel healthy at all!

MC: I mean...it gets my hair clean yeah? So it’s fine.

Asmo: At least get a body scrub! They help make your skin feel so soft!

MC: Is there one not quite as expensive? The one in your hand is a bit more than I expected.

Asmo: ...I don’t know what’s in the cheaper ones though. They probably don’t have as much moisturizer.

MC: Soooo I don’t need it?

Asmo: *screeching because he doesn’t know how to convey what the issue is*

Asmo takes time to find more affordable products that at least have a similar quality to his high end taste. He doesn’t like it but he does know he can’t force MC to buy the products he would normally use.

Mammon is VERY confused when MC is looking at jewelry of some kind but it’s like glass or shiny plastic instead of actual crystals or diamonds.

MC: Oh these charms are cool! Look there’s a crow!

Mammon: I mean...I guess? They aren’t real crystals or anything though. Looks like hard plastic.

MC: Eh? Why does that matter? *laughing* I’m just window shopping anyways.

Mammon: Window shopping?

MC: You know? When you’re just looking around but not actually going to buy?

Mammon: But if you want it why not just get it?

MC: These charms are each more expensive than my average meal! I can’t just drop that kind of money on little trinkets!

He’s probably the most understanding about all of it since he gets not having money. The realization that MC doesn’t actively seek out anything remotely expensive turns him to trying to save up more money to get them nice things.

Leviathan is probably the one to make MC the most uncomfortable with his spending habits. He is known to spend egregious amounts of money on things that don’t have an actual function aside from just being part of a collection. MC on the other hand will buy little knock off things like key chains or stickers because they don’t want to spend so much on the official merchandise but they still like whatever show or game it is. MC also knows how to make their own cosplays and repurpose things for props and accessories.

MC: *showing Leviathan some cute little charm from Pokemon or something* I love this one it’s so cute. I wanted to get the set but that was quite a bit more!

Leviathan: *sees it and knows immediately that it’s knock off and not even close to official merch* The colors aren’t even close! Look it doesn’t even look like the original character!

MC: I mean it’s pretty close. Maybe it’s just hard to make that color?

Levi: Why not just get the official merch?? It’s much better quality

MC: But the official is ten times more expensive. I think this looks close enough.

Levi: ...okay look I THINK I have an extra set with that character in it.

MC: ...extra set??

Levi: Well I buy more than one so I can sell them later.

MC: More than one??????

Leviathan makes it a goal of his to get MC whatever merch he can for their interests. He doesn’t like the idea that MC just settles for lower quality stuff just because they don’t think they should buy it. This is HIS Henry after all, only the best quality for them.

Satan also struggles hard trying to understand MCs spending habits. He prefers to get new books when he can as he doesn’t like the idea of buying a used book that someone ruined (ie. the corners have small bends or there’s a pencil mark in them, he has high standards for his books lol). The only exception he has is older books that are limited quantity. He gets frustrated when he sees MC carrying books around that look like they’ve been through hell and back in his eyes. He initially thinks MC is the one ruining their own books.

Satan: Really? The semester started a week ago and your books already look this bad?

MC: Bad? I thought I got a good deal on them.

Satan: Well when you bend the corners like that of course they look bad. Is that a coffee stain? Really?

MC: What? We haven’t even gotten to these sections yet. I’m not sure what you’re issue with my books is.

Satan: Well why are the pages all bent here of you haven’t gotten to these sections yet? Are you just incapable of taking care of your stuff?

MC: Maybe it was the previous owner? I take care of my stuff, don’t even try and pull that card.

Satan: ...previous owner? Like you’ve just gone and bought a used book? Why?

MC: Well actually it’s a rental, it was cheaper than-

Satan: RENTAL?!

Satan then insists that he buys MC all new books despite their protests. He isn’t going to sit around and let them use older books if it can be helped though he does start to understand why MC doesn’t mind used books when they show them places with discounted or even free textbooks and PDFs. It’s kind of handy to not have to pay a large sum for a physical copy when he can just have a free PDF of an older version on his laptop.

Beelzebub starts questioning what the humans habits are when he takes them shopping in place of Lucifer and sees them picking up instant noodles and coffee. He may be willing to eat almost anything but even he knows that stuff doesn’t taste the best and can’t be the healthiest for them.

Beelzebub: What about this brand? It’s got those little veggies in it.

MC: But it’s three times the price. I can just chop up some chives and put it in this for cheaper.

Beel: Why does the price matter?

MC: I don’t like spending too much if I can help it. Oh! They have frozen pizzas!

Beel: *increasingly concerned about the humans poor eating habits*

Beel probably starts taking them out to restaurants more or trying to rope them into cooking with him. He isn’t sure if they just don’t know what good food looks like or what their deal is so he’s just going to try and show them and hope they get the hint. He does avoid eating anything healthy they bought, like yogurts or frozen fruit.

Belphegor. King of sleep. Ruler of comfort. The one you know KNOWS how to take a good nap. He is absolutely pissed when he sees MCs room for the first time, most importantly their bed. The pillows look awful and the sheets are the cheapest ones you can get at the store. He confronts his brothers about the humans poor sleeping arrangements to which they all say “it’s what they chose when they first got here.”

Belphie: No. Unacceptable. Throw it away.

MC: You’re being ridiculous, I’m not throwing my pillows away.

Belphie: They don’t even have a shape they’re so flat! You have no comfort standards!

MC: My bed is comfy!

Belphie: The only comfortable part is the mattress which is also the only thing you didn’t choose.

MC: What’s wrong with the rest of it?!

Belphie: Those sheets are scratchy, the blanket is thinner than a piece of paper, those pillows look sadder than a kicked puppy, do I really need to go on?

MC: You’re being completely unreasonable.

Belphie drags Asmo and Mammon to the store to get MC a whole new bed set and even insists on getting them a new mattress. MC gets barred from their room for a few days until everything is set up. Belphie cares, he just wants MC to be comfortable, it’s important to him that MC sleeps well.

Overall I think the boys will learn to be a little more accepting of MCs habits. They also become increasingly more aware of how much richer they are than them and try to make MC as comfortable as they can.

#obey me headcanons #obey me asmodeus #obey me belphegor #obey me beelzebub #obey me mammon #obey me lucifer #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me:swd

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loudsuitlover · 4 years

Text

Doctor Harry XIX. Cuarto movimiento: La realidad

A/N: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH

Preview

“You take off your clothes.” He whispers. “If you’re brave enough to wear that around me, you should be brave enough to undress yourself in front of me.” He smirks.

My eyebrows raise on my forehead and I give him a little smirk. He chuckles.

“D’you want a show?”

He grins as he nods, resting his back on the couch.

“And what do I get in return?”

“Oh, you’ll find out after the show.”

BLUE’S POV

Coco and I are late. When we enter the café, I tell the waitress Olivia’s name and she leads us to our table. The three of them are already sitting on the table and Ollie smiles relieved at our presence. She might be really hungry or maybe she just doesn’t know what to do about Marie and Jason.

They had a fight the other day. Apparently, it had to do with David Dick. Marie said something bad about it, also known as the truth, but Jason said she shouldn’t be talking about him to people who didn’t even known them. I have stayed out of this. No one has asked for my opinion either, thank God, so I’m just on backstage, waiting for them to make up.

The second Coco and I sit down, Ollie waves the waitress. She tells us we can think what we want while they order but I already know what I want anyway. A strawberry milkshake and the Nutella croissant. Coco orders a waffle and a vanilla milkshake and Marie gets surprised at our quickness. I just smile at her.

I tell them about the wedding while we eat and they keep swooning and making comments that make me blush. I show them the hundreds of pictures we got, for his mum and his cousin Laura had been stealing shots at us and also the photographer of the wedding thought it important to get pictures of the bride’s brother.

“Jesus Christ, he looked good.” Ollie says.

I laugh and she gives me a naughty smile.

“So do you, of course.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“No, seriously, Blue” Coco insists “you looked like a movie star.”

I don’t know how many times Coco’s seen the photos but she’s always been the supportive sister and ever since she’s in love, it’s just been something else. She’s so happy she has enough bliss to give the rest of us.

“Can you believe” Ollie says when she comes back from the loo “that I’ve forgotten to put on knickers?”

“What do you mean you’ve forgotten?” Coco laughs.

“I’m just not wearing any.” She shrugs.

“And you realize now?”

“When I went to the loo.”

Marie shakes her head with a smile and I chuckle at my friend’s careless being.

“Yeah and she would have been terribly late if I hadn’t called her.” Marie says. “It looks like she had a busy night with Mario.”

Olivia smiles.

“Right, because Adam and you were surely asleep at 9 pm.”

Jason laughs out loud.

“So Indie, what time did you go to bed last night?” He wiggles his eyebrows.

“Actually, pretty early. I think it was like 10 pm and I slept alone. In my own bed.”

“Oh, did Harry have work?”

“No” I chuckle “he was home, I guess. We don’t spend every minute together, you know?”

JJ shrugs.

“If I were with a man who could pull off a white fucking suit like Harry, I know I would be with him every minute.”

Then it’s me who shakes my head and laughs.

We haven’t been out all together since last week when we went shopping and even then, Jason wasn’t there so it feels like ages that we don’t just chat around and have something sweet together.

Marie tells us about her grandparent’s golden wedding too and we all drool over the pictures because they look so adorable.

“¡Madre mía, Marie!” My sister says. “You look so good too! Look at that red dress! Where was the red carpet, madam?”

Marie blushes and giggles and Jason smiles tenderly at my sister. I see the way Olivia’s looking at her, with her teasing smile, and I know Coco’s in for some Olivia jokes.

“Guido must be good.”

Coco’s confused eyes drift to Olivia’s.

“Or have a huge dick.”

My sister clicks her tongue and shakes her head giving our crazy friend a look but she just smiles.

“If it has anything to do with genetics” she starts “that should be the case.”

We all laugh and my sister’s cheeks tinge pink.

“Oh my God, it is!” Jason celebrates.

He seems so happy. He’s been laughing and joking around and even though sometimes he still gets a little into his own head, I reckon he’s gotta have to deal with a lot of thinking these next months. I remember when Javier and I broke up, it was like that for me too. Yet that’s not necessarily a bad thing.

I wish him and Marie would make up. They are good for one another. They complement each other like sweet and sour and I know Marie’s sorry. I can tell by the way she looks at him.

After breakfast, the five of us go shopping. I’m not a big fan of shopping, to be honest, I get headaches and hate trying clothes on but these guys love it so that’s what we’ll do. Coco and Ollie are a very dangerous duo. If it wasn’t for the rest of us, they’d be in debt by now.

They make Jason walk into Agent Provocateur even though he tries to remind us that he’s actually bisexual and can’t really give his opinion on this without getting killed.

“You can keep saying you’re bisexual, you know? But you’re gay, pal.” Olivia says.

“Again, the fact that I am not sexually attracted to you does not make me gay.” Jason smirks.

“No, I know, it’s the fact that you always look at guys.”

“I look at girls too. I just don’t tell you about it.”

“And who exactly would kill you?” I tease him, changing Olivia’s crusade on making him gay. “Mario and Adam are teddy bears, Guido’s shorter than you and Harry’s not jealous.”

He laughs.

“D’you think Harry wouldn’t mind if I saw you in lingerie?”

“I don’t think so, no.”

Jason smirks. I know it might be hard for him to understand but he is a jealous guy. He knows that, we all do. But Harry isn’t or if he is he handles it like a master and I think that’s the most beautiful thing he could do for me. I never understood why my friends in high school thought when their boyfriends acted like cavemen was something to be happy about. I mean I never really understood that well-trodden thought “he’s jealous because he loves me.” No. “He deals with his own jealousy and lets me be free because he loves me.” That’s how I see it.

“Should we get the same set?” Ollie asks Coco. “You know, in order to surprise the Matteoti brothers.”

My sister blushes and giggles and Olivia grins.

“I hope to God they don’t talk about that to each other.”

Olivia giggles.

“I used to think every man did but I actually think Mario doesn’t.”

“And you’re offended by that?” I offer.

Jason walks towards us swaying his hips like Beyoncé placing a bra over his sweater and the knickers over his jeans and Coco laughs and rushes to his side to stop him. The two of them go to the “funny section” where the crazy lingerie sets are.

I see my sister laughing at whatever it is that crazy Jason is telling her about the outfits.

“No, I just don’t know how he’s still with me.” Ollie says.

I frown as I turn to look at her.

“Hey, guys, do you like these ones?” Marie shows us a red lace crazy knickers with holes where fabric should be.

“I have no idea how you put those on.” Ollie shrugs.

“What do you mean?” I interrupt her.

“I genuinely don’t know with these many holes, it’s-”

“No, I mean about Mario.”

“What about him?” Marie asks.

“She just said she doesn’t know why he’s still with her.”

“What?” Marie frowns.

We both look at Ollie, whose blue-grey eyes are busy with the underwear she’s holding.

“I just don’t know how someone that’s… such a saint can be with me.”

I look at Marie but she just shrugs and gives me her best pursed lips.

“I mean… You guys are very different but that doesn’t mean anything.”

“I like him.” Olivia confesses. “I really do, what I don’t like is to constantly feel like I’m waiting for the moment he realizes he doesn’t want to be with me.”

“Why do you say that?” Marie frowns. “I think it’s rather obvious that he’s crazy about you.”

“Yeah,” Ollie tilts her neck “now.”

“You are wonderful and it might not work out but that’s that. Every single relationship might not work out but that’s when you show you’re brave. If you get hurt, well, here we are for chocolate ice-cream or popcorn and movies.”

“Thank you,” she chuckles “but that’s not even what I meant. You guys know I’ve… Fucked around.”

“So?”

“Guys don’t like to thrust their dicks in a public hole.”

Her words freeze my blood. I hate that she thinks so low of herself and I hate society for putting that idea on her mind. I can’t pretend I understand her and I don’t know what I would think if I were her so as much as I want to tell her that’s silly, it might not be. I mean it certainly isn’t if it’s something she really thinks but also, I feel bad and I feel bad because I have been a part of that thought, unconsciously but I have.

I told Harry I didn’t want to be another notch on his belt. Isn’t that the same thing? Only, with men. But didn’t I somehow make him less worth it just because he had been with a lot of girls?

“Don’t you ever speak that way about yourself again.” Marie threatens her.

I am taken aback by her reaction but I let protective Marie take the lead her. I am foolishly speechless.

“I won’t even comment on how degrading and sexist the “public hole” thing is because what’s important here is that you are not a hole, Ollie, for goodness’ sake. Do you really think Mario sees you like that?”

“This is not about Mario.” Olivia defends him.

“Still, don’t insult him by thinking so little of him.”

“And don’t think so little of yourself either, Ollie.” I add. “Fighting sexism starts with oneself, don’t be sexist to yourself, let yourself be free, yeah? And just for the record, if Mario ever left you, it’s clearly his lost.”

“So clearly.” Marie adds.

Olivia just chuckles and wraps her arms around both our shoulders, pulling us into a hug in the middle of the underwear store.

I want to tell her to talk to Mario, to let him in and let him hear how she feels and what she thinks so he can have a chance at telling her the same things about himself but I couldn’t bring myself to be such a hypocrite. How could I tell my friends to talk to their boyfriends when I never do that with Harry?

I mean, we’re getting better or at least I think we are but there are still so many things to work on. I don’t want to hurt him and that means I don’t ever want to talk to him like I usually do. I’ve been thinking so hard about it, since that day he insulted me when we were having dinner at Bellamond. It sounded so terrible and it made me feel so little and unwanted and stupid so to think that’s how he’s felt every time I’ve done it makes me very angry with myself.

I’ve already seen how easy it really is to talk to him. I did at Marie’s house after I said those terrible things to him and he hasn’t made a big deal of it. So then I don’t understand why it is so hard for me to talk to him about what I think, how I feel and what I want… Because the truth is- I want him. He already knows that, I think, but I don’t think he knows how I really feel about him.

I would like to maybe text him right now and tell him I miss him, because it’s true, I do. I’ve barely seen him this week because he went on a congress from Monday to Wednesday and after that we’ve both been busy but I don’t know what’s holding me back. Am I really that scared of rejection?

I can’t get our fight on Marie’s house of my head. I think he let me know that night that he was addicted to me but he didn’t mean it like a good thing. He was sad that I was. I keep thinking lately… Did Javier really break that much?

What if that relationship has turned me into an abuser? I can’t believe I called Harry a junkie. I just… And then what? Then I cried so he would forgive me? I mean that’s what they do. Am I toxic to him?

I know ever since Dylan died I haven’t really been myself. I don’t even like the person that he left behind. I have felt… Empty and cold and heartless, I really have but… That has changed now. It has changed. But what if it has turned me into some sort of monster? What if I’m not capable of loving?

Out of all the people in the world who doesn’t deserve that, Harry’s the one who least deserves any of that.

“You can tell me.” Jason says.

We’re both sitting down on two velvety armchairs as the girls try things on. I give him a look.

“Whatever is troubling you, you can tell me.”

I sigh.

“Do you think I’m cold?” My eyes investigate his so he can’t lie.

“How do you mean?” His eyes narrow.

“I mean… Do you think�� Do I remind you of David?”

“Of David?” He almost stands up from his chair as he frowns and turns to look at me. “You? Of course not! You’re nothing like David!”

“Well, you don’t know the way I treat Harry…”

Jason straightens his back before he sighs.

“Well, why don’t you tell me what you did so I can decide?”

“Because I’m embarrassed.” I shrug.

“You’re sorry, that’s what you are, which means you’re nothing like David.”

“What if I am? It’s not enough with being sorry, is it? The thing is never doing it again and I keep hurting him.”

“How?”

“I… I speak very harshly to him sometimes and I tell him terrible things… I… I don’t want to hurt him, you know? He’s become someone important to me, someone I care about. I would never hurt him and yet I keep doing just that and I don’t even know why.”

I look away from him and Jason sighs again.

“We accept the love we think we deserve.”

I tilt my neck to look back at him the moment he quotes The Perks of Being a Wallflower. He’s stern and understanding. I frown, I don’t know what the fuck does that have to do with anything of this but I listen because I love this guy more than I love most people.

“Indie” He reaches for my hand “is it possible that you do that when you feel like he’s getting too close?”

I look away. I don’t think it matters why I do it. I don’t think it would have hurt less that I had known the reason why Javier had me tied up on the bed. And what if the reason doesn’t have a solution? I mean what if the reason is my subconscious is trying to put him away from Dylan’s place? What do I do about that?

“Indie, I can’t pretend I understand what it’s like to lose somebody you love as much as you loved Dylan-”

“I love Dylan.” I correct him.

“You love Dylan, sorry. But… Dylan… I mean… D’you think he would want you to be lonely?”

I don’t answer him nor do I look into his eyes that investigate me.

“Put on his shoes.” He whispers. “Imagine the story the other way, imagine you were him and he was yourself. What would you want for him?”

I let his words take me to that parallel world sometimes I wished it was the real one. If I had died that night, then Dylan would be here and if angels existed then I would be the one for him and I would look after him and protect him from whatever cloud angels get on the sky. But what if I saw him with another woman? What if I heard the same things he said to me said to her? What if he loved her more than he loved me? What would I be then?

I remember my therapist trying to sow that idea in my head- that we have to let go, that no person can live in the past forever, and that letting go doesn’t mean disrespecting. I wonder where’s the balance, I wonder if someday I’ll be able to find a way to feel good without feeling like I’ve forgotten all about him. But I know what I would want if I had been the one dead that night.

“I would want him to be loved.”

I feel tears on my lacrimal and Jason’s hand wraps around my arm and gently squeezes me.

“I know that’s what he would want to.” He whispers.

“I haven’t been able to go to his grave once.” I whisper. “I think if I could… Talk to him… Maybe let him now, I love him and I always will but… I think I love someone else.”

I hear Jason taking a deep breath and only then I realize what I just said. I tilt my neck so I can see his face. I don’t know what I’m expecting neither do I know why I’m expecting him to judge me. But he just smiles.

“I already knew that. Your face lightens up when he’s around or when someone talks about him. I saw that on Marie’s house the other weekend.”

I take a deep breath and give up. He’s right.

“Don’t worry, it’s the same for him. He treated you like a queen and was always looking after you and I think you guys understand each other pretty well.”

“We understand each other? We fight like cat and dog.”

“The way I see it, you’ve had your misunderstandings but you’ve always figured it out. D’you think any other person would have stick around long enough for you to figure each other out? And I’m not talking just about him, I mean, he’s got some issues too.” He frowns.

I finally chuckle. He does have some issues but they don’t come close to all the other good things he has.

“You know, I’m happy you got him. It makes it easier for me to finally do what I’ve always wanted.” He smiles.

“What is that?”

“The States.”

My mouth shuts. My lips pursed and I want to cry.

“The States? You’re leaving too?”

First Ollie and now him. No, no, no, there’s no way Marie and I are going to overcome this. They can’t leave; he can’t leave. I need him. My pulse accelerates. I never thought I was going to be losing my best friends so fast. He smirks and nods his head.

“I need it, Indie. I didn’t go because of David and he… He treated me like shit throughout the entire relationship and I didn’t lose you guys because you are fucking angels from another planet but I think I just need to go away for some time, figure myself out, do what I want for a change.”

I take a deep breath. I really need to stop being so selfish. I don’t even know how long for he’s planning on leaving but the least thing I can do as a decent friend is to support him not matter what. I’ll miss him, sure, but I won’t lose him just because he goes to another continent. He’d have to change his name and go to a secret location for me to lose him.

“If that’s what you want and what you think you need, I’m all in.” I smile. “I’m gonna fucking miss you but I’m happy that you’re doing your thing. I hope you know, even when you were with David, you never changed the person you really are and I think that says a lot about you. What happened to you was not your fault, it was his, and it could have happened to anyone. God knows we both know how they find the way to get into your mind. but you’ve always been more than what happened to you.”

He frowns despite his smile and I can tell that’s his way to try and hold back the tears. He wipes the ones that scape out before he holds my hand.

“I fucking love you.”

“I love you too.”

“And you call me dramatic but look at what speech you gave for three months that I’m leaving.”

“You’re leaving for three months?” I frown and he laughs. “Then why would you say it like that? I thought you were leaving for good.”

He laughs.

“And miss your wedding and your pregnancy with Harry’s babies? Never.”

“Hey, hop off the horse!” We both chuckle.

“Just be honest with him, Indie.” He tilts his neck. “You’ve got him here” he flexes his fingers to gesture a handful and taps a finger on it “and here” he taps a finger on his chest where his heart is and I smile. “Now, why don’t you get some sexy ass lingerie for him?” He wriggles his eyebrows. “The straight guy in me can help you decide.”

“You’re on.” I smile.

I try on about five of them. The girls are the judges but they all know I’ll end up choosing whatever I like. I never listen to advices when it comes about clothes. I know what I like and what I don’t and that’s that.

I do have a thing for underwear. It’s the only thing I actually enjoy buying so most of my underwear is cute and lace or silk or nice soft cotton but I do get excited at the idea of surprising Harry with something sexier than usual.

Maybe high stockings would do, I could wear a skirt and underneath it some high stockings hooked up to the waist of a lace bodysuit or something like that. I find a black lace one almost see through except from some parts strategically covered with the black flowery pattern, the cut between my legs and my nipples. The straps are silk and from the one around my waist, the two clasps for the stockings fall on my thighs. I love it.

After getting our underwear and going go with JJ to the male section of Gucci and Yves Saint Laurent, we finally sit down on a terrace surrounded by bags and have a drink. I order a Martini because I guess I’m feeling fancy after all and my friends order a sort of fancy cocktail each, except from Coco that goes with a beer. Her and Ollie are the ones who look fancier by far, Marie does too but in a way that lets you know she’s the good girl in the family, whereas Ollie looks like the one who’s always late to family meetings and Coco looks straight out of a magazine and yet there she is with a beer on her hand not caring about the contrast one bit.

In front of the terrace, there’s an Italian restaurant where there are two guys at the door, opening them for the clients. I have caught them staring at me more than once but every time I look the look away. I’m afraid I even have a boob out with all the staring but when I look down I realize I don’t. Jason’s sitting next to me and I wonder whether he’s noticed too or I’m just being paranoid. I look up at them and one of them look to the floor. Jason laughs.

“Geez, they could get a photo.” Jason says.

Alright, I’m not crazy.

“You’ve noticed too?”

“They haven’t taken their eyes off you since you sat down.” He chuckles. “And I’m sitting right here, I could be your boyfriend for all they know.”

Olivia tilts her neck and turns her head around being the blatant bitch she is before she gives me a smile.

“Well, they can keep trying, they’re trying to get in the place of an Armani underwear model.”

I roll my eyes and so does Marie. My eyes drift to her.

“You’re so exaggerated.”

“He could be one.” I defend him.

My friends and sister giggle and I blush but join in. It’s true, he could really be one and I miss him and want to see him.

Ollie’s call coincides with the moment Jason gets up from our table to go to the toilet and Marie gives my sister a smile.

“Coco, how are things with Guido? Are you happy?”

“Oh, I’m very happy.” She smiles. “I’ve never had this before, you know? Knowing my feelings are reciprocated. It just feels great.”

“Oh, I’m happy to hear that. You deserve someone like that.”

“So do you.” I tell Marie. “How’s everything with Adam?”

“He’s a dream.” Marie shakes her head. “I do worry that everything is too good.”

“Why?”

“Well, he’s so gentle and loving and caring… I keep thinking when it is going to end.”

“Why would it end? I mean, obviously there’s always like the first few months where everything is just perfect and all that and after that there’s more comfort and less romanticism but… Don’t worry about that. It’ll come naturally.”

“See? But that’s what I don’t want! I don’t want him to walk in the bathroom while I’m peeing or for him to see me with my hair on a towel and a face mask on.”

Coco giggles.

“Well, maybe not now, but it’ll eventually happen if you guys stay together for long enough.”

She looks away from us and takes a deep breath before she speaks.

“The other day he told me to leave some things at his place.” She all but whispers as if it was some sort of secret. “Well, he got micellar water even though he didn’t know what that was because I told him once that I couldn’t stay over at his house because I didn’t have my micellar water to wash my face.”

“Aw.” Coco rests a hand on her chest and Marie’s lips pursed.

I giggle.

“And why is that a bad thing?”

“It’s not a bad thing.” She shakes her head. “It’s just… Are we not moving too fast?”

“I mean he asked you to leave stuff at his house because you need stuff. It’s not like he asked you to move in. I stay over at Harry’s all the time.”

“Don’t you think I’ll freak him out when he realizes I’m a high maintenance girl?”

“I mean, Marie” Coco’s sweet tone makes my friend look at her “I think he might have an idea already?”

“I mean” I giggle “he’s been to your house.”

“Yeah, but my skincare is all carefully kept in the bathroom cabinet.”

“Well” I smile “I don’t think that’ll be a deal breaker.”

She sighs.

“Maybe some day you can let him in the bathroom while you do your skincare routine. I do not think he’s gonna be faced by that.”

Her brown, good-girl’s eyes investigate mine whilst she considers my idea. I can’t believe she actually think that would be a problem. Adam is crazy about him. I don’t think there’s anything she can say that would make him not want her.

Jason comes back before Ollie does but it doesn’t take her long to stand next to our table.

“Guys, this was a very lovely day” she starts “but I won’t lie to you. Mario just called me, he said he had a hard day at the hospital today and I want to cheer him up with incredible sex and cuddles so-”

“We did not need to know about the incredible sex.” Marie tells her but Ollie just smiles.

“And of course you can leave to be with your lover, Ollie, no need to explain anything to us.”

“Right.” She smiles. “Then see you, guys.”

With that she picks up her uncountable bags and leaves and Marie bites her bottom lip.

“I think I’m gonna leave too, guys. I have a skincare routine to share with someone special.” She smiles at Coco and me and we both laugh.

“What?” Jason chuckles looking at both Coco and me. “I’m kind of tired too, girls. Your shopping gave me a headache.”

“I’m pretty sure you bought more stuff than me.” I reprimand him but he just rolls his eyes.

“Anyway, I love you all. See you.”

Coco and I walk together to her car and on the way there we both chat about how the group has changed in just a few months. It’s like we’ve grown up more in this year than we have in the last five. Jason went out of a terrible relationship and came out being stronger and more confident than ever and he’s going to the States for that internship he wanted; Ollie’s finally moved on from Jack and her inner crisis and seems to be done with being insecure and afraid of love; lovely Marie found her knight in shinning armour and is living the dream; and even Coco and me left the past behind and meet someone great.

I might miss the way things used to be because they’ve been like that for a long time but… I think they’re only getting better.

I dare to do it, if Marie’s going to show her skincare routine to Adam and Mario called Olivia because he had a hard day and needed comfort, I can tell him.

Indie: Miss you x

I rest my phone on my thigh and look out the window trying not to torture myself if he doesn’t answer straight away. He might be busy, he might be asleep even or he might be with his family.

Harry: Fuck, I miss you too

I grin like a kid on Christmas morning. Harry’s typing…

Harry: Are you done with your friends?

Indie: Yes :)

Harry: Can I see you?

Indie: Yes :)

Harry: Bien

I giggle like a teenager and Coco tilts her neck to give me an amused look. She’s not used to it.

“Do I drive you home or directly to Harry’s?”

“Do you have plans?”

“I wanna go home to shower but I’m going out with Guido afterwards.”

“Are you taking the car?”

“Yes.”

“Do you mind dropping me at Harry’s then? So I can shower and stuff before too.”

“Sure, no problem.”

“Awesome. Thank you.”

Harry: Did you have dinner?

Indie: Yes.

Indie: Are you at home?

Harry: Yes, I am. Are you coming?

Indie: Are you inviting me?

Harry: You’re always invited, love.

Indie: Then how about I visit you in an hour?

Harry: Can’t wait xxx

After the shower, I butter my body with my strawberry and vanilla body lotion and put on my new lingerie set before I put on some lip balm and mascara. I put on a terracotta colour soft woollen sweater and a high waist black denim mini skirt that covers my stocking so they look like normal tights.

I’m excited to see Harry but on the way to his apartment while Coco drives and tells me about some of Guido’s jokes that had her laughing last time they saw each other, the excitement turns into nervousness.

Will he think this is too much? Will he find it funny? Because I would be mortified if he does and after all, this is not a special occasion. It’s just a random Friday night. Oh, God, he might think I’m crazy.

As I stand on the lift to his apartment, my sister’s compliment on my outfit gives me some nerve. I mean it’s just Harry. If he finds it funny or thinks it’s too much, I can always play it cool and pretend it was a joke all along.

He’s waiting by the door with a big smile when the lift doors opened and I make my way towards him keeping both hands on my brown jacket. He takes it and places it on the couch before we make our way towards his living room.

“Would you like anything to drink?” He offers.

“Um, maybe a cup of tea?”

He smiles amused.

“I was thinking you were going to say something alcoholic because it’s a Friday after all but you always surprise me, Blue.”

I chuckle.

“How was your day?”

“Good.” He nods his head as he turns the kettle on and takes two cups from the cupboard. “I had lunch with my mum. She asked me about you.” He gives me a smile that melts me. “How was yours?”

“Good too. We had coffee and then went shopping until we were hungry so we had a dinner and then a drink.”

“Sounds like torture to me.”

I laugh at his comment.

“That is not true. I’ve seen your closet, you’re into fashion.”

He smiles dimply because he knows I’ve caught him. God, I have seen him smile countless times in the last five months but still it makes my heart skips a beat. I approach him when he’s giving me his back checking on the water in the kettle and when he turns his head for he noticed my presence, I’m inches away from him. He wraps his arms around me and understands what I want so he leans down and kisses me. I let my tongue tell him how much I missed him and he hums as it pushes between his lips and caresses his. His hands find my ass and I moan against his mouth but the kiss is sweet and tender and we only pull apart when the kettle whistles.

We sit down on the couch and have our cups of tea as he tells me more about his lunch with his mum and I tell him more about my day. He also tells me about his congress and about an interesting case he had this week and I realize then how easy it is to talk to him. I didn’t realize there were these many things I wanted to tell him until I had him in front of me.

He’s been very handsy too and I’m sure so have I even if I don’t notice, but his hands have never left my legs and I’ve been a little nervous that he might move them a little higher and realize what I’m wearing but so far, he’s just been respectfully caressing my knee or calves.

“How is Jason doing?” He asks.

I find it so sweet that he asks about my friends.

“He’s better. Yeah, I think he’s doing good. He’s going to the States though.” My hand finds its bicep as I try to catch his undivided attention even though I already have it.

“What do you mean he’s going to the States?”

“Well, it’s only for three months.” I turn the drama off a little. “It’s this internship he got while he was with David Dick, he said no because David wanted him to stay but apparently he’s gotten a second chance and he said yes this time.”

“Wow, that’s great. Your friends are as nerdy as you.” He giggles.

“I’m not going anywhere though.”

“Yeah, thank God.”

He grins and his hands find my hips before he pulls me closer until I’m straddling him. He captures my lips with his in a long peck. Still, somehow, he hasn’t seen my stockings. I peck his lips again.

“Nah, I’m kidding, I would be very happy for you if you were going abroad for an internship or something too. You know that, right?”

I nod my head.

“I would miss you a lot though.” I confess and he grins.

“I would miss you too.”

I kiss him again and he kisses me back in a long, loving kiss until I pull away.

“I haven’t asked you: what did you get today?”

I lick my lips and feel my cheeks heating up. I’m sure when women wear these things, they don’t feel so shy. Plus, I have no reasons to feel shy when all Harry’s done is worship my body. I don’t know why I’m even doubting myself. He’s going to love it.

“I can show you.” I whisper.

I can feel his heartbeat accelerating under my hand and smile. Every doubt I’ve ever had flees my mind as I grab a handful of my sweater over my belly and pull from it so as to get it out of the hem of my skirt. His green eyes drop to my hand and his hands adjust to my hips over him. He swallows.

When my sweater springs free from my skirt, I just pull it up so he can see my lingerie bodysuit over my belly and his fingers sink of my hips as his lips part.

“Fuck me.” He whispers.

My lips curl up into a grin as his eyes search mine.

“You perfectly know what you do to me.”

His hand squeezes my hip once and I almost moan but then he takes his hands off me and rests them on the couch next to his hips.

“Well, do you want to see it or not?” I whisper.

He nods his head but doesn’t say a word. His eyes challenge me.

“You take off your clothes.” He whispers. “If you’re brave enough to wear that around me, you should be brave enough to undress yourself in front of me.” He smirks.

My eyebrows raise on my forehead and I give him a little smirk. He chuckles.

“D’you want a show?”

He grins as he nods, resting his back on the couch.

“And what do I get in return?”

“Oh, you’ll find out after the show.”

His green eyes, playful and filled on lust, narrow and this time it’s my pulse that accelerates. Placing my hands on his shoulders, I rest my weight on him as I get up from his lap and find my phone still on my purse. I go on Spotify and play Love Is A Bitch by Two Feet and hand him the phone so he can hear the song better. His grin turns nervous.

I have never done this before and I have no idea of how to dance for an striptease but here goes nothing. I sway my hips slowly much like I do when I’m fucking him because I already know he likes it from the times we have danced together. His eyes are set on me but instead of feeling nervous, I feel sexy and hot and lucky that he’s looking at me like that.

I turn around and give him my back before I bend over sticking my ass in the air to get my shoes off. Barefoot, I turn around and unbutton and unzip my skirt pushing it down my legs and letting him see my mid-thigh stockings. The corners of his lips curl up and he silently mouths fuck me.

Funny, I’m thinking the same thing. I caress myself like I’d like him to do, starting with the sides of my thighs and my hips and then my belly and my flanks, pulling my sweater up. I cup my own breasts under the sweater and don’t miss the way his Adam’s apple bops as he swallows. Still swaying slowly to the music, I grab the hem of my sweater and take it off dropping it on the floor.

I stand before him on my lingerie and feel fire burning inside me as his eyes roam my body up and down. He’s shifted his position on the couch but I can intuit the bulge between his legs.

“Do you want me to go on?” I whisper.

He shakes his head.

“Come here.”

I do as I’m told and his touch cuts my breathing halfway. His hand sticks to the exposed skin on my thigh and lustfully moves up to my hip where he squeezes.

“You must be fake.” He almost chuckles and I do.

“I’m real” I rest one knee on the couch next to his thigh and resting my hands on his shoulders, I straddle him “and yours.”

“Fuck.”

His fingertips press on the back of my neck and our mouths find each other with greed. The way he’s looked at me and the way he’s touched me and how hard I can now feel him against the inner side of my thigh drives me crazy and I push my tongue inside his mouth hungrily. My eagerness takes him by surprise but he’s just as eager as I am judging by the strength of his tongue against mine and the squeezes of his hands on my flesh. He pulls away but my mouth follows his blindly.

“Calm down, love” he chuckles against my lips “we’ve got all night. Let me enjoy you.”

I pout but instead of getting another kiss, he grins. I can’t say I’m disappointed with the outcome of my pouting. I love that he still looks like a child when he grins even when he’s acting so much like a man, full of lust and need.

“How did I do?”

Grinning, he takes my hand and lets me feel his hard on. It excites me to the point that my walls clench. He’s so hard and so hot… I want him inside me now. No, I don’t want him, I need him.

“I had never done that before.” I confess.

“Are you serious?”

I nod timidly and he sighs.

“You’re a natural then. That was the hottest thing I have ever seen and this thing…” His fingers caress my bodysuit “fucking hell, Blue, I’m gonna be dreaming about this.”

I laugh.

“Now you have to show me what I get for it.”

He grins and licks his lips as he tilts his neck.

“Well, when did the show end? You did ask me if I wanted you to go on.”

“And you said no.” I frown.

“Because I don’t want you to take this off just yet.” His tongue licks my lips like a cat. “But… If you want, I would love to watch you first.”

“Watch me?” I frown. “Doing what?”

He grins. He takes my hand in his and brings them both to my sex making me cup my dripping lips myself. I breathe in through my nose. He’s so close to me and he’s smiling in the way that turns my insides into jelly and I’m so wet and so needy… I need some relief now.

“I want you to touch yourself for me, baby.”

“You mean… Right here on top of you?”

He nods slowly but his fingers move over mine and make me caress myself. He does that a few more times before he removes his hand and lets me work alone. I keep doing what he was doing before and press circles on my clit as my eyes set on him. His hands hold my hips to give me more balance and I slip my fingers underneath the soaked fabric. His eyes move from the place I’m touching to my eyes and stop at my breasts.

“Fuck…” He whispers. “How does it feel, baby?”

I slip a single finger inside before I get another one.

“It feels better when you do it.” I confess.

He squeezes my hips and pecks my lips.

“I can show you how I do it.” His lips press on the exposed skin over my bra and I feel a current of electricity on my body. “D’you want me to?”

I keep touching myself with lips part, enjoying his kisses and his whispers. I love how his voice turns deeper and raspier when we’re having sex. It drives me crazy.

“Why do you want me to touch myself instead of you?” I whisper.

“Because having you pleasuring yourself on top of me… Fuck, baby… You don’t know how sexy you are.”

I bite on my bottom lip but his thumb pulls from it liberating it. I look into his eyes.

“If you do that, I’m gonna burst.” He smirks. “Do you not touch yourself?”

“Yes, I do.” I move my fingers slowly against my clit because I’d cum already if the rhythm was any faster. “I guess it’s just… I’m nervous.”

“Why? You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.”

“It’s not that.” I gasp. “I do, I just… I want you.”

He grins and cups my breast on one hand making me moan.

“I’m right here, love. I just want you to cum like this first and then we can do whatever you want. Only if you want though.”

“I do want.” I stop him. “Just show me how you do it.”

He slips his own fingers the fabric of my bodysuit and guides mine.

“You have to start here” he covers the upper side to my clit, the part closer to my belly and presses slow circles “slowly, yeah, like that and don’t be nervous, baby. If you don’t cum on your own, I’ll help you.”

I half laugh half moan and he chuckles. I keep moving my fingers like he told me to do until I find a spot that sends electricity through my body. I start rubbing faster and the feeling is so good I almost don’t notice he removed his fingers.

“That’s right, baby, faster, faster.”

I feel the lower part of my belly tensing up and my nipples hardening and I moan as I relax my neck and throw my head back.

“Now stop.” Harry’s hand covers mine and stops my movement and I frown and give him a death glare that only makes him laugh. “And do it slowly again.”

I let him guide me and move my fingers against my clit watching him watch me. His eyes are fixed on my hand and my pussy and he’s biting his lip. God, this is so hot. I’m horny as hell.

One of his hands move from my hips to my inner thigh and he slips his fingers under the fabric again, slipping two fingers inside me and making me moan out loud.

“Fuck, I just wanted to see how wet you are.”

He moves his fingers slowly in and out of me and between that and my own stimulation on my clit I am afraid I might faint. I bite on my bottom lip again and he pulls from it with his thumb.

“What did I say?” He whispers as his fingers keep moving in and out of me so I bit my lip again so as not to scream. “You’re not really as good of a student as I thought.” He chuckles.

He gets his fingers out of me and I whimper making him chuckle again.

“You do it, baby.”

I curl two fingers inside of me and move them with the rhythm he was using and one of Harry’s hands squeeze my hip. I shut my eyes and gasp.

“Imagine it’s me, love.”

“Oh, God.”

When I open my eyes, I see he’s stroking himself over his jeans and my eyes drop to his bulge.

“You don’t know how much you’re turning me on, baby.”

No, he has no idea how much this is turning me on. I thought this was something only done in porn but this is fucking hot. Having him right here as I pleasure myself, hearing his voice thick with lust and knowing how much watching me is turning him on drives me crazy.

“You’re always so good with me.” He captures my earlobe between his teeth and pulls from it and I moan.

“Touch yourself, H.”

“D’you want me to?” His voice comes out strangled then and I feel the power he gives me burning my skin.

“Yes, like I’m doing.”

I hear his zipper going down and feel him lifting his hips from the couch to take his pants off. My eyes set on his hard length, already leaking precum, shinning and tight, and his fingers wrap around himself.

I try to take this time to focus on what he does to himself so I know how to touch him better next time so I slow the rhythm of my fingers for otherwise I’d finish already. Harry’s mouth attacks the side of my neck so I can no longer see him because my neck tilts back without my consent to grant him better access and he keeps kissing my skin.

“I’m not going to last long watching you, baby.” He whispers.

“Oh, God, I’m very close already, Harry… I fucking… This is so exciting.” I moan.

“Fuck me, keep talking.”

“Oh, Harry… I want you to cum so I can cum too but…” I can tell his pumping accelerates and so do my fingers. “It’s such a shame you’re not on my mouth like last time… You taste so good.”

A guttural sound cuts his breathing halfway and I feel a hot liquid spurt on my thigh. That sends me into overdrive and I moan until my throat stings. Harry’s hands hold my hips as I sigh and try to catch my breath and then I smile at him.

“Stop that or I won’t be able to stop fucking you.”

I laugh softly.

“Then don’t stop.”

He smiles mischievously at me and I know he was hoping to hear that.

“I can’t decide whether I want this off or not.”

He says staring down at my bodysuit and I laugh.

“I’m glad you like it.”

He doesn’t say anything, instead he just smiles before he leans in to capture my lips with his. We kiss intimately for a while and then his hands pull my hips down and he penetrates me slowly. He swallows my moans as he keeps kissing me lustfully but slowly, almost calmly.

His hands hold my ass and he lifts me and sinks me back down so he’s fully controlling the rhythm, a very slow, torturous one that lets me feel every inch of him as he stretches me on his way inside. I feel him so deep too, I don’t think he’s every filled me like this but I love it and I let him known, with moans and bites on his bottom lip.

“You like it slow, baby?”

I hum and nod my head and we kiss each other as if we were the only people in the world. Right now, he is to me.

“Spread your hips wider apart.” He whispers.

I do as I’m told and replace my knees further away from him. His hands hold me in place as he slowly pushes back in and I feel him paving his way through my channel inch by inch until our pubic bones touch and we both gasp.

“Oh, God.”

And we repeat again. He pulls out almost entirely and then sinks in again. He kisses me passionately and I press my body against his as if we could get closer. He captures my bottom lip with his teeth and pulls from it like I normally do with his and when my lip sets free from his prison, we both smile at each other. He fills me again and, in this kiss,, it’s me who pulls from his bottom lip. I have never felt more filled of him and of feelings for him, lust and love bubble and mix together inside my belly and burst in every kiss.

“Fuck, Harry, you’re amazing.”

I hear him giggling.

“Don’t laugh.”

He slaps my ass cheek and I jump a little.

“I’ll laugh if I want to.” He grins.

I smile too.

“You’re right. Don’t stop laughing. I love it when you do” I gasp as he fills me again, he rolls out “And I love your smile, you’re so handsome when you smile” when he fills me again, I tangle my fingers on his hair and pull from it “and your hair, I love your hair and your eyes, when you look at me…”

He shuts me up with a passionate kiss and I hope he understands how I feel about him through this intimate encounter.

“Blue…”

I wait for him to speak but he doesn’t say anything even though his hips don’t stop moving against mine.

“What?” I press him.

“Nothing.”

I would have insisted but his hips attack mine hard and it cuts my breath halfway. I cling onto his shoulders and he keeps thrusting inside me hard and fast. I pull from his hair and listen to our skins clapping together and the wet sounds of our intimate encounter. His hand cups and squeezes my breast and I arch my back and tense up as I cum again.

His thrusts become faster and sloppier until he cums himself and before I have time to react, he’s standing up and carrying me on his hips to his bed. He lies me on my back and smiles as he stares at me.

He spreads my legs opened and gets on his knees between them and his hands hold my ankle and place it on his shoulder before he unclasps my stockings and put them down my leg. He does the exact same thing with my other leg and caresses my entire body before he takes off my bodysuit.

He then hovers me and pecks my lips a few times before he pecks my nose and my cheeks and then my neck and my collarbones and he leaves kisses in every inch of my skin. I almost giggle when he kisses the spots that tickle and I feel a different type of excitement on my belly at his attention for these kisses aren’t even lustful, even though we’re both now naked. I feel adored and I feel cared for and wanted and I feel my heart about to explode with love for him.

He kisses my legs and from the inner side of my thighs he moves back to my belly, kissing my skin there again before he smiles at me.

“What do you want from me, Harry?”

“Everything.” He smiles as his face reaches the level of mine and he pecks my lips again. “I want everything from you.”

My breath catches on my throat. I want him, no, more, I love him. I love him. I swallow and play with his hair as I stare into his eyes.

“Careful what you wish for” I whisper “If you play with fire, you’ll end up burned.”

“I’m already burned.” He smirks. “And here I am.”

I smile but the smiles turns into an o as he thrusts inside me again. God, this man is insatiable, but I can’t get enough either. He fucks me slowly again and he keeps biting my lips and squeezing my flesh as we both gasp and moan.

I sink my nails on his back as he licks and sucks on my nipples and I moan his name once and again whilst his hips keep drilling me to his bed. I wish we could stay like this forever. When the delicious torture on my breasts is done, he grants me again with the heavenly image of his face and that’s all I can see as he rests his forehead against mine and keeps on moving in and out of me. I feel his breath on my face and swallow his grunts and moans.

I am not sure he feels the same way I do. I don’t know if he loves me but I don’t think I could feel any of this if he didn’t. I don’t think he would make love to me like this if he didn’t love me. I think he wouldn’t touch me like he does, I think he wouldn’t squeeze my flesh so gently if he didn’t. I think his kisses wouldn’t feel like this if he didn’t love me too.

“You feel so good, baby.”

I feel my pulse on my skin and I feel the knot on my belly about to untie and with another push of his, I lose track of space and time and my head sinks of the pillow. I can’t even breathe for some seconds until I moan out loud and feel my throat raspy and becoming inflamed. He lets go too, groaning in my ear and shivering on my arms.

It takes him a few seconds to roll out of me, but he stays laying on top of me and I hug him to my chest as we both fight to catch our breaths. I don’t know what any of this was but he filled me in every level and I still feel my heart pumping proudly at the newly found sentiment.

Harry’s breathing pattern changes and becomes calm and deep. Carefully, I pull back just enough to look into his eyes but they’re close and his expression is peaceful. I kiss his forehead.

“You’re falling asleep on me.” I whisper.

“No…” He frowns but his eyes are still closed.

I smile and try my best to pull from the duvet so I can cover us both but I’m not strong enough.

“I just need help to cover us up.”

“I’ll warm you up.” He mumbles.

“You’ll freeze too, come on.”

With one hand he lifts my back from the bed and with the other he pulls from the duvet and rolls us both under the duvet before he hugs me again. This time he rests his back against the mattress and pulls me to him so I’m the one resting my head on his chest. I trace senseless figures with my fingertips on his bare chest.

“Blue”

“Yes?”

“Give me a goodnight kiss.”

I chuckle before I lift my head and peck his lips. His eyes are still closed but he frowns.

“Kiss me well.” He complains.

I press my lips against his again, not quite knowing what he wants, and lick my way inside his mouth, getting a lazy response from his tongue. When I think I did well, I pull apart and peck his lips as closure but he opens his eyes and the intense green in them paralyzes me.

“I want one of your kisses.”

Still impressed by his gaze, I press my lips against his again and I put all the affection I have for him on the kiss until my belly erupts in a fist of butterflies and my chest feels funny and warm. We kiss one another with love, it can only be love, and when I feel like my pulse has reached my brain, I pull away and Harry skims my nose with his.

I rest my cheek against his chest before he opens his eyes and realizes I’m blushing and I hear his heartbeat against my temple. His breathing slows down just like the movement of his fingertips on the low of my back and he sighs.

“Blue…”

I hum.

“I love you.”

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justahopelessssromantic · 4 years

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Part 10

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8 // Part 9

A/N: Sorry this took what feels like forever to update or even to post anything. I don’t know what happened but I really struggled to write this and get it done for y’all. I just hit a terrible block out of no where and I really tired my best to push through. I don’t think I’ve ever been so frustrated. Hopefully it has lifted now 😊Thank you so much for the understanding and patience. Anyways I hope you guys enjoy and as always thank you so much for reading! ❤️

*gifs not mine*

Warnings: Angst and Fluff

Exiting the car you headed towards the clubhouse to find EZ waiting just outside the gates. Angel sent him a text letting him know the two of you were on your way knowing his little brother would want to see you. Angel turned to you giving you a kiss on the cheek before walking past you, stopping to give EZ a quick hug and then heading further in to give the two of you some privacy.

“Hey,” EZ said meeting you the rest of the way and pulling you into a tight hug, “How are you doing?” He never got the chance to really check in with you last night understandingly after everything. Watching you come in with Angel helped ease some of his worry with the knowledge that you had not spent the night alone.

“I’ll be fine,” you replied. Not you were fine, but you’d be fine. “We talked almost everyday. Why didn’t you say something EZ? You should have told me.” You weren’t angry with him but you were a little hurt to know that he had known and had not mentioned a single thing to you. You were also upset with yourself for not catching that something was wrong, but then again you were also good at keeping things from those closest to you. Especially something so painful. Still you were family, it involved you just as much.

“Until we knew all the facts it was just too dangerous,” he tried to explain to you. He felt bad for not telling you sooner but he wouldn’t apologize for it. If he could go back he'd make the same decision to keep you in the dark. “You had a lot you were going through already (Y/N). I didn’t want to add to it.” He pulled you into another tight hug. “And I knew if I told you you would have come back. I wanted you back more than anything, but it had to be when you were ready, on your own terms.

“You knew I’d be back?” When you first left you had no intentions of coming back. You thought that would have been the last you’d seen of Santo Padre and the people who made it what it was, but then again you were angry and hurting.

“Santo Padre is just as much a part of you as you are it. It needs you, it’s your home.” EZ said grinning at you after pulling away from the embrace. You rolled your eyes at him trying to stifle a giggle. “Don’t look at me like that.” He chuckled.

“You’re such a cheeseball,” you teased playfully pushing his shoulder. “Now come on, I wanna see all the other guys.”

Angel was sitting atop the picnic table outside putting out his cigarette when he saw you and EZ headed his way. Hopping off the table he met the two of you following behind as you headed in the clubhouse, more than likely to say hello to all the guys before you went into the shop today.

You walked into the clubhouse sighing as the cool air touched your skin freeing you from the unbearable heat just outside. Your eyes adjusted to the room from being in the sunshine when you noticed Coco, Gilly and Matt sitting at the bar. You smiled to yourself not expecting to see your new friend so soon.

Angel however groaned to himself the minute he saw Matt sitting there next to Coco. What the hell was he doing here? He glanced over at you and his heart sunk at the smile you wore. He should be the one making you smile like that, not Matt.

Looking over at your entrance Matt grinned the moment he saw your beautiful face. He got up from his seat walking over your way, eyes only on you. Coco followed behind meeting the three of you in the middle of the room.

“Funny seeing you here,” you commented.

“I was just thinking the same thing,” Matt said. For him it was like you were the only two people in the room. He had just been here discussing business but the moment you walked in the room the air around him became lighter and all of that went out the window.

“Yo, you two know each other?” Coco asked looking between the two of you and then to Angel who looked less than pleased to see Matt. Clearly Coco was missing something. He’d have to ask the Boy Scout about it later.

“Yeah,” Matt answered, still looking at you with that charming smile, “I met (Y/N) at Carniceria Reyes yesterday. She really helped a poor lost guy out.”

Now it was making more sense.

You smiled back. It was refreshing to run into Matt here. The conversation was a good distraction for you, helping to push the last hours to the back of your mind. “You two know each other?” You asked, pointing between him and Coco.

Angel sat back a bit with EZ, watching you intently as you talked. He couldn’t stand this and he was doing everything in his power to not say something he could possibly regret.

“Know each other?” Coco shook his head with a grin before slapping his hand down on Matt’s shoulder, “Asesino here is family, mi hermano, we served together. This man could take down a man with just his fuckin’ bare hands.” Coco boasted about his Marine buddy.

Angel felt as if he was being hit by a truck. Coco knew Matt, called him his fucking hermano. Angel was his hermano. He couldn’t possibly fathom how things could get any worse.

“Asesino?” You asked looking at Matt with your eyebrow raised. He just smiled modestly glancing down at the ground. You looked between the two thinking what are the odds. “Wow that’s so crazy. Small world.”

Angel was growing impatient, each word testing his resolve. Glaring in the direction of the three of yours exchange he muttered to himself, “Too fucking small.”

EZ heard the comment elbowing Angel swift and discreetly in the ribs shooting him a glare. Angel matched his look before turning back in your directions and swaggering his way over to the three of you. EZ tried to reach out and stop him but couldn’t without possibly making a scene.

“Angel,” he introduced himself with a smirk extending his hand out and interrupting the conversation. Standing straight he was a good four inches taller than Matt giving him that extra sense of confidence.

Matt took his hand, shaking it firmly, both men’s grips tight. He took Angel in, sizing him up. So this was the man who broke your heart, who broke your trust.“Angel,” he repeated back, “Matt. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Oh I know who you are,” Angel stated cockily, “Matt." He made a point of ununciating the t at the end."I make it a point to know everyone who’s hanging around my family.”

The men’s hands were still connected. You could practically feel the tension growing thicker and thicker. Coco exchanged a glance with EZ trying to figure out what the next move should be as you sent your own pleading look back towards EZ. The last thing you wanted was Angel driving your new friend away.

The men eventually dropped their hands and it was like the three of you let out a breath in unison that you weren't even aware you had been holding. Angel stepped back taking a stance next to you with his thumbs hooked into his pockets sizing Matt up now.

“So what exactly is it that you’re here for Matt?” Angel interrogated him, “What drives a man like you to settle here in Santo Padre.”

You looked back at EZ once more pleading silently once more for him to intervene. He didn’t want to get in the middle but for you he would. Taking a deep breath he stepped up and next to Angel.

“I’m here for work.” Matt explained simply to Angel. He didn’t like the guy, mostly because of what you told him but he liked you, respected you so he would be civil. He knew what Angel was doing though, trying to mark you as his. From what he could see you were your own woman, you could make your own decisions and he fucked up. “Got a job across the border.”

“Well Santo Padre is glad to have you,” EZ smiled at Matt butting into the conversation, “EZ,” he extended his hand introducing himself with a quick handshake. “Now if you don’t mind I need my brother for a minute.”

“Not at all, he’s all yours.”

Angel glared at EZ as he pulled him away from the conversation without giving him a chance to resist.. Once outside EZ released his hold on his brother’s shoulder following him around the side of the building.

Angel spun around shoving his brother, “What the hell was that?”

“She doesn’t need this now,” EZ said calmly. Matt seemed like a decent enough man to him.

“Yeah? Well I don’t need that right now!” Angel snarled pointing back in the direction where they had just left you all alone with Matt. Well mostly alone with Matt besides the other guys but that didn’t matter.

“Hasn’t she suffered enough, Angel?”

“Fuck, not now EZ. I don’t need this shit right now,” Angel protested trying to spare himself from the inevitable lecture that would be coming his way. He’s already heard it so many times, given himself the same shit, and right now after dredging up all that shit this morning he was not in the mood to hear it again.

“I’m just saying. Haven’t you done enough damage?” He knew his brother was hurting too but he was the one who cheated on you not the other way around. You had every right to talk to Matt, to do whatever it was you wanted. As long as he brought a smile to your face after last night that was all EZ cared about, “I know you are hurting but if Matt can make her happy, why won’t you let her have that?”

“No, I don’t think you do know Ezekiel.” Angel snapped back at him, getting in his younger brother’s face.

“Then tell me! Because from what I can see it’s pretty fucking simple.” EZ barked back standing his ground, “You cheated on her Angel. You’re the one who broke her heart, who sabotaged your perfectly good relationship.”

“Fuck! We were both broken,” Angel exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. He knew what he did was inexcusable but it kept getting harder and harder hearing the same shit from everyone. “Our relationship shattered the moment we lost the baby, not the affair!”

And there it was out in the open, the thing you had sworn to keep to yourselves.

“What?” EZ’s eyebrows furrowed trying to wrap his mind around the revelation as he looked at Angel’s broken expression.

Angel backed away from his brother running his hands through his hair. “She was pregnant. We were gonna have a family.” Angel explained, defeated. He hated the pitying look his brother wore, that was exactly one of the reasons it was kept a secret. “I was gonna be a fuckin’ dad EZ. We were so excited and then” he paused a moment, “then we lost it.” His voice broke.

“Shit Angel. I had no idea.” EZ’s heart broke for the two of you. He wished one of you had said something. It surprised him to know you had kept something so big and so painful to yourselves. He wished you would have let him in, let him be there for you. Although it was different circumstances he knew what it felt like to lose a baby.

“No one knew.” Angel mumbled, shaking his head. Leaning back against the side of the building he pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his cut fiddling with the carton in his hands, “It was too painful, we wanted to keep it to ourselves. And shit EZ you had enough on your mind while you were inside.”

EZ stepped over to his brother taking a place beside him against the wall. “I wish you had said something but I understand why you didn’t.” He placed a hand on Angel’s shoulder giving it a squeeze, “You are going to be a great dad someday Angel, I know it.” He said, trying to bring him some comfort.

“Fuck,” Angel sighed bowing his head, “I only wanna be a fuckin’ dad to her kids.” Picking his head up he looked at his brother. EZ could see all the emotions trapped inside him through his brother’s eyes, the fight within him clear as day. “I love her EZ. I love her so fuckin’ much it drives me crazy, keeps me up at night.” Angel leaned his head back against the building looking to the sky now. Last night was the first good night sleep he had gotten and he knew he’d be going back to shitty nights filled with shittier thoughts. “I need her. I’m so lost without her. I can’t do this without her.” His eyes glassed over as he stared up at the big blue sky. Maybe if he stared long enough it’d pull him in granting him peace from his seemingly never ending suffering.

EZ looked at his brother. He wished there was something he could say to ease Angel’s pain but there was nothing he could do. All he could right now was just sit with him in it, to be there for him, and sometimes that's all you can do for someone. Even so he still felt terrible for the heartache his brother had gone through. The heartache you both had gone through and continued to go through.

—————————————————————————————————————

Coming into the carniceria had been a terrible idea, still you pushed through. You couldn’t stop your mind from wandering, from imagining what EZ must have seen that dreadful day. At least the shop was busy with customers coming in and out giving your mind the distraction it needed. Felipe told you to go ahead and close up early so you had just flipped the sign over in the door and locked it up. You were doing the last minute cleaning, the radio playing quietly in the background when a light tapping on the glass caught your attention. Looking over in the window you saw Matt standing there holding up a cup of coffee and a paper bag from Mr. Garcia’s with a smile on his face.

Setting the broom against the wall you dusted off your hands onto your jeans before unlocking the door and letting him inside.

“Hey, I hope it’s okay that I stopped by after closing,” he said stepping into the small shop. “I wanted to bring by a little something to thank you for yesterday.” He handed you the little brown bag first.

Smiling, you opened the bag pulling out your favorite kind of scone, maple and doing a little happy dance. You were starving. The only thing you had eaten was from this morning and you couldn’t wait to devour the delicious treat in record time. “Thank you. Maple’s my favorite. How’d you know?”

“Hector was kind enough to share with me your usual order,” he grinned. To him you were one of the most amazing people he had met. Your little dance warmed his heart and he was thankful he had met you. He could really use someone with your light in his life.

“Hector?” You repeated sitting down at the little table inside the building. Matt sat across from you setting your coffee down in front of you. “Mr. Garcia must really like you. He doesn’t let just anyone call him by his name.”

“What can I say? What’s there not to like?”

You rolled your eyes laughing before digging into the delicious scone, savoring the sweet taste in your mouth. If there was one thing you loved more than anything it was good food.

You ate your scone just chatting casually between the two of you. You tried to stay present you really did but everything kept slipping to the front of your mind stealing you from the moment and it didn’t go unnoticed.

“You okay?” Matt asked, his face scrunched in concern. You were still just as lively as ever but there was a hint of pain behind your eyes, of sadness.

“What?” You asked, caught off guard. You were very good at hiding your true feelings most of the time, you pride yourself on that. The only one who could really see through you was Angel with the exception of EZ a few times. Maybe you were just too rusty or maybe everything finally became too much. You felt vulnerable, as if he could see right through you and that made you a little uneasy. At the same time it was refreshing to not have to put up a front, to know that through all the pain you were going through it didn’t go unnoticed, to know that he truly cared. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you started to say out of habit before catching yourself. Letting out a sigh you held your hands in your face, “Fuck, no I’m not fine.”

Matt grabbed your hand gently bringing it down onto the table as he looked at you, “There’s nothing wrong with not being fine. It’s okay to not be okay, just don’t let it consume you. Sit in the pain and then work through it, but don’t let it take up permanent residence in your life.” He knew what it was like to be in a dark place, to let it take hold dragging you so far down that you couldn’t see an escape. He didn’t have anyone but he’d be damned if he let it happen to you. You were too special, too important to those around you in this town and he would hate to see the light diminish in you. “I won’t push you to talk about it but if you ever need a friendly ear, someone to talk to, well I’ve got two.” He gave you a crooked smile holding your hand tight.

You laughed half heartedly feeling more at ease, a weight being lifted just from admitting out loud to someone outside your tight circle that no you weren’t alright and to be told that there was nothing wrong with that. You were a bubbly personality, always going out of your way to make other’s lives a little better, a little happier. Sometimes you felt as if you got stuck in that role, that all you were good for was bringing other people up no matter how down you felt. That you were such a happy girl, so full of life, someone like you couldn’t possibly be sad, couldn’t possibly be holding in a darkness so heavy you felt you might shatter into a million pieces. It felt so good to finally let some of that out. “I appreciate that Matt, I really do. More than you may ever know,” you gave him a smile squeezing his hand, “But I can’t talk about it, not now at least.”

“Well, I will be here when or if you ever can. And I’m here for anything else at all that you may need.”

"Thank you," you said genuinely. Standing up you tossed the garbage into the bin behind the counter. "I got some stuff I need to get from Mel's hardware store before he closes. Would you like to walk with me?"

"Sure," he nodded, standing up and following you out the door, waiting as you checked to make sure the door was locked.

You wandered through the aisles of the small store looking for the parts you needed to change your locks, Matt trailing just behind you. He insisted he carry the basket for you so anytime you found what you needed he’d hold it up for you to place the items inside.

Getting to the check out you greeted Mel at the counter setting your things down in front of him.

“(Y/N)!” He exclaimed with a large smile, “How are you doing dear?”

“I’m good,” you smiled back, “How is your garden doing?” Mel had a greener thumb than anyone you had ever known. He used to let you come by and pick out anything you wanted and in return you’d cook him dinner or bake him a special treat out of some of it.

“Doing great,” he beamed. Not many people asked him about it and he loved your enthusiasm whenever you’d stop by. He missed you while you were away, just like everyone else in the small town. “You should stop by again soon. You can have anything you like, like always.” He said, sending you a wink.

You chuckled at the old man and his charm, “You know I’m going to have to take you up on that.”

“Good cause I’m getting a little thin,” he chuckled, “I’m gonna waste away without your good cooking to plump me up.”

“I’ll bring you something again real soon,” you said resting your hand gently on his arm, “I promise.”

He gave you a thankful smile before finishing up scanning your items, “Hey, you have a new place to yourself now, correct?” He asked you.

“Yes, I do.”

“I’ve got something just for ya,” he said. Shuffling back into the storage room behind him he came back with a box setting it down in front of you, “We just got these in today. Living all alone you should have a little extra security.”

You gave him a smile after you looked at the box of the ring doorbell but didn’t think it was something you needed.“That really won’t be necessary.” You tried to protest.

Matt watched the exchange silently. He loved watching you as you interacted with the people around you.

“Plus I wouldn’t even know how to set it up,” you continued hoping that would satisfy the older gentlemen.

“I can do it for you. No problem at all,” Matt offered, speaking up behind you. It wasn’t his decision to make but he wasn’t a fool, he knew Santo Padre came with its many dangers. It couldn’t hurt to have just a little extra safety measures in place and he would gladly assist you with that.

You came to that conclusion yourself the more you thought about it. Before you never felt unsafe, you lived with a Mayan which made you a target in its own way but Angel would always protect you, you always felt safe with him. And with him being a part of the MC most people wouldn’t dare to try anything. But things were different now. Now you were connected to the cartel and Angel wouldn’t always be around. It couldn’t hurt to have a little extra security.

“He can do it for you,” Mel encouraged with a wiggle of his eyebrows and a grin playing at his lips. Mel never liked Angel mostly ever since he became a member of the Mayans MC. The club never sat well with him.

"Fine," you gave in shooting him a quick glare. "But that will be all for today, thank you."

Satisfied he smiled scanning your last item and setting it into the paper bag with the rest of your items.

Back at your home you watched as Matt set up the device outside your home. He had just finished changing the locks and was now installing your new doorbell for you. It was sweltering hot outside so he had shed his top layer leaving him in a tank top that showed off his well toned arms. You tried not to stare but that was proving a little difficult. Shaking your head you tried to clear your thoughts. Now was not the time. Walking over you leaned against the door jam arms crossed. "How's it going?"

Slipping the screwdriver out of his mouth he grinned glancing back at you. "Great. I think you'll like having this around."

"I'm warming up to the idea," you admitted. The sun was beginning to set outside as you realized just how late it was."It's not much but I have a frozen pizza in the freezer I can heat up." You said pointing back in the house. It was the last thing you personally wanted to eat but at the moment the last thing you felt like doing was cooking. "It is getting kind of late."

"Sounds great," he smiled. He wasn't a picky eater. His mama taught him just to be thankful for what he did have and to be respectful when he was a guest. You could make him anything and he’d be happy with it.

You turned to head back in to preheat the oven when he stopped you in your tracks.

"Before you go you can give me your phone? If you don't mind.” He added, “I can get the app and everything all set up for you."

"Yeah, that'd be a life saver." You unlocked the phone with your finger print before going into the settings and turning the lock feature off for now. You handed him your cell before slipping back inside. You had nothing to hide so there was no concern leaving your cell in the hands of another. And you trusted Matt. Also you sucked at technology. Angel used to always give you a bad time whenever you had to ask him how to accomplish a certain task on your cellphone teasing you how he should just buy you one of those phones advertised for the elderly.

Pulling the box out of the freezer you read the back setting it on the counter as you leaned down setting the temperature on your oven. You then pulled a couple of cold beers out of the fridge while you waited for the oven to ding. Opening the box you unwrapped the distasteful thing and set it onto your pizza pan. Your precious pan deserved better but there was no time for that now. You'd make it up to it another day.

Angel sat outside with the guys at the end of the day watching as the sun set. They all had a cigarette in hand and a beer nearby enjoying some time together before they all headed off for the night.

"So Matt's your hermano?" Angel questioned Coco sitting across from him with a raised eyebrow.

Coco rolled his eyes, "Come on fuck, don't tell me your fuckin' jealous of me and Matt." Coco shook his head flicking his cigarettes butt to the ground, "I get it with (Y/N) but damn man, get a fuckin' grip."

"I'm not fuckin' jealous," Angel lied, "I've just never heard you mention him before. If he’s your hermano like you said, shouldn't I have heard of him before now?”

Gilly snickered into his beer at his brother’s exchange. Jealousy was not a good color on Angel.

“Fuck man. Quit being a fuckin’ pussy. It’s not like I have to share every damn detail of my life with you. He’s my hermano and you're my hermano and that’s that.” Coco stated matter of factly.

“Ok, fine.” Angel grumbled. It was definitely not fine but maybe he could use this to his advantage. “So since you know this Matt so well, this Asesino” he mocked the nickname, “why don’t you tell me about him? There’s gotta be some dirt or something you got on Mr. Fucking Perfect.”

“Nah. Shit man I ain’t doing this,” Coco said standing up, “I’m not getting in the middle of this. He’s good people, Angel. That’s all I’m saying. Now I’m getting out of here. See ya fuckers tomorrow,” Coco called out, flipping Angel off as he walked away.

Of course he was. Angel couldn’t seem to catch a fucking break. All he could see was you slipping from his grasp for good. There was no way you’d choose him over Matt. He was losing you and he couldn’t bear to watch.

He was trying to not let it get to him, to step back and give you some space, especially after the shit they just dumped on you. He didn’t want to add on more pain again. Still he couldn’t stop worrying about you, wondering how you were holding up. Standing up he tossed his own cigarette down and pulled his phone out of his cut pulling up your contact.

He spent way too much deciding on what to say before he finally typed out: ’Hey, I know shit’s been tough so I thought I’d swing by and check on you, make sure you are doing alright’ before hitting send and slipping the device back into his cut.

Heading out himself, EZ jogged up behind him catching him at his bike. “Hey, you heading home?” He asked. With everything going on he didn’t know how good it was to leave his brother alone.

“Not yet,” Angel replied slipping his helmet on, “I’m gonna swing by (Y/N)’s place, to check in and make sure she’s okay.”

“Do you want some company? I can ride along.” EZ offered.

“I’m good, E. I should probably go alone, you know?” Angel said before swinging his leg over the bike. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He called out over the roar of the engine. Giving his brother a nod goodbye he walked his bike back before pulling out and down the road.

Your screen lit up as Matt was downloading the app for your new doorbell with a message from Angel. He wasn’t meaning to be snoopy but the message was right there before his face. He read it furrowing his eyebrows before swiping the notification off the screen and continuing on the task at hand. Angel didn’t exactly sit well with him but still it wasn’t exactly his business. From what he could tell today had been a tough one for you so where he didn’t delete the message or anything he also wasn’t going to tell you about it either in the hopes to spare you some. You seemed to be more relaxed tonight and he wanted to keep things that way.

Stepping out onto the deck with Matt he smiled up at you from his crouched position by the door.

You handed him one of the beers. He gave you a thanks before popping the top off and taking a long drink of the cold refreshment. “Pizza will be done soon. Are you almost done out here?”

“Yeah,” he answered nodding his head, “Just got to finish up a few things and then you’ll be all set.”

“Great,” you grinned fiddling with the label of the beer in your hand, “Thank you again. For everything.”

“Of course. Anything for you, (Y/N).” He loved saying your name and you had to admit it felt nice every time he did.

The oven dinged from inside your home and you took that as your cue to get the pizza out. Heading back inside you turned the volume of the music you had been playing up. The sound was competing with your noisy ac unit so it was a little louder than you usually liked it. Grabbing an oven mitt you pulled the door open and took the pan out. You then got to work cutting the pizza into evenly cut slices.

Matt heard the rumbling of the bike as Angel rolled down the street and suspected it might be him. Turning around to look in the direction he met eyes with him giving him a nod before shoving the screwdriver into his back pocket and heading in your front door.

Angel’s blood boiled when he saw Matt standing there outside your door. The little nod he gave him only pissed him off more. Clearly you didn’t need him, and that fucking hurt. Matt had only been in your life for one day and you already were choosing him. Angel sped up down the street needing to get out of there before he had the mind to turn back around and lay into the fucker. He knew you didn’t need that. It was taking everything in him to not fuck up any more.

He shouldn’t have done it but he did. Stopping at a stop sign he pulled out his phone sending a text he would surely regret later.

Matt felt your phone buzz in his pocket reminding him he still had it. You stepped out to the bathroom real quick and he was sitting at the small table in your kitchen waiting for you to eat. Pulling it out he looked at the screen reading the message.

‘I was over last night and now you got another mother fucker over?’

Shaking his head he listened to make sure you weren’t coming back yet before deleting the message entirely from your phone and then turning the screen off.

Once you were back he handed you back your phone, “We can test it out after we eat. I’ll show you how everything works.” He said.

You smiled feeling more at ease than earlier in the day. Matt was a nice guy and you had enjoyed spending the evening with him. Taking your phone you slipped it into your jeans before chomping down into the crips crust of the pizza. The two of you talked and joked enjoying the terrible food with good company.

For a moment you forgot about all the shit, all the pain, and were genuinely, truly happy.

Perfect Tag List: @jadert15 @dearsamcrobae @joalsglasses @chibsytelford @lover1307 @mrsamaroevans @expir3d-l0v3 @nakusaych9 @sophiasotherdaughter

Everything Tag List: @jad3djay @fairygardenss @carlaangel86 @briannab1234 @starrynite7114 @agirllovespasta @howaboutash @gemini0410 @naytraydr @knowles-morgan

#angel reyes #angel reyes imagine #angel reyes fic #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes fanfiction #mayans mc imagine #mayans mc fic #mayans mc #perfect

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lovelivingmydreams · 4 years

Text

Wrong door

I watched the latest Sanders Sides video and I have feelings that I need to write about. So here a little one shot.

OBVIOUSLY SPOILER WARNING FOR SANDERS SIDES

Summary: When Roman leaves he doesn’t go to his room straight away. Maybe his turbulent mind sought this place out to fit his mood. Maybe deep down he knew that there was only one person who could help him understand what he did wrong.

The conversation leads to discussions and remenicing of their past, why the King ever split, why Virgil left to the ‘dark side’ to begin with and the reason Virgil doesn’t trust Deciet despite living with him and the others for years.

After Roman sunk out he appeared in a much darker environment than he expected. His room was always bright and colorful, packed with Disney memorabilia, red drapes and stage lighting. The gloomy atmosphere he was faced with now made his already fragile self-esteem crumble even more. Was this because deceit... Janice, was right about him? Was he really not the hero? But Paton always said... ‘The brave, handsome, unbeatable Roman,’ But then again... ‘I don’t always know the answer,’ He felt his chest tighten. It was harder to breathe. No. He... He isn’t bad. He only ever wanted to help Thomas. He was trying to do the right thing... But so was Patton. And De... Janice, of all people had been protecting Thomas from him when he lost it... “Ro? What happened?” Roman’s head snapped up. Virgil what... Then he realized where he was. The Tim Burton poster behind him, he cobwebs the dark atmosphere. This was Virgil’s room... He came here instead of his own... Why? “Is Thomas mad at me?” the younger side asked nervously. “I could tell he felt really stressed just now, I tried to leave him be after the whole wedding... I’m sorry, I know I panicked when Mary Lee and Lee came over, but...” Roman raised his hands to calm Virgil down. Today had been terrible for everyone. But their purple patched cautious guardian was probably the only one who would’ve had an equally horrible time no matter what they had done today. The callback would’ve been hell because so much was riding on it. The wedding was horrible because, well… mandatory social interaction, and Virgil had been particularly terrified of saying the wrong thing to their friends. What if they realize we aren’t having a good time? What if they think we look dumb in this suit? What if they realize it’s a rental and think we don’t care? Virgil took a few deep breaths and nodded. “I’m really sorry. I know how important today was to you, and I made us blow it,” he sighed. Roman shook his head. “No one is mad at you Virgil. That’s not what Patton and I were talking about... I wish you’d joined though,” he sighed, raking his hand through his hair. His nervous energy intensifying with every minute. But was that because of the room or because of his own thoughts? Probably both. “...Ro. Maybe we should head to your room instead?” Virgil offered gently. It wasn’t quite like him to sound so sincerely worried. They usually communicated their affection to one another through sarcasm and mild jabs. But ever since Remus made an appearance Virgil hadn’t been his usual self in general. He’d been more withdrawn, more careful with what he said. Not less active in his contributions, but Roman had seen his angsty friend less around the mindscape almost like when he wasn’t part of the group. As their friendship grew, they’d taken to having Disney nights in his room where they’d discuss the movies and Virgil even tolerated Roman singing along to the songs at full volume. But recently... He probably should have popped in here before now instead of ‘giving him space’. Was that even really what he’d been doing? Or was he just too much of a coward to face him and possibly have to own up for his past mistakes? He really was a terrible friend. So egotistical. Why couldn’t he ever consider other’s feelings? He’d tried today, really had tried not to hurt Patton’s feelings while discussing doing the right thing. Tried not to push. Tried to really listen to what he had to say so he wouldn’t make any more mistakes. He’d been ready to swallow his pride and take a step back when it seemed like Patton was too busy with not hurting his ego to really do his job . And it was still not enough The aching in his chest intensified. Right, not the place for these thoughts. Roman looked at Virgil gratefully and nodded. He could use some time with his newest friend. Virgil was good. Helpful. A team player from the start He’d never pretended to be his friend when he was not. And even when they hated each other -though hate was a strong word for the aversion he used to have for the embodiment of anxiety- Virgil had made performances better, more exciting, even inspired him to create. How things had changed since the fanders first met him. “Alright, breathe with me, and let’s go,” he instructed. Roman focused on the other side’s breathing and before he knew it they were in his room. With the familiar lavish decor, the countless posters and trinkets... But it all looked a little... off. It was not ready for a guest, and he was always ready for guests. There were decorative couch cushions on the floor, some of the red velvet drapes were askew and the whole room felt just a little wrong to him. Imagine coming home and someone had entered and pushed nearly everything a touch to the left. Nearly imperceptible, but enough for you to know something is wrong. Great even his own room couldn’t give him comfort now. He let out a sigh, not his usual dramatic sigh, just a plain old tired sigh, and sat down on the couch with his head in his hands. “Ro? What happened?” Virgil asked confused. “I know something really got everyone upset. Even pops felt... Unusually distraught. I stayed in my room to not make it worse. But Thomas seems okay now. So why aren’t you... You know? Tatata,” Virgil finished with a week imitation of triumphant trumpets and Roman’s usual introduction pose. It made the embodiment of creativity smirk despite himself and then he sighed again. “Janice happened,” he muttered defeated, feeling completely spent. “Janice... You mean Janus? Deceit? He... He told you?” Virgil muttered confused. “Janus?” Roman mused. “That makes slightly more sense,” he allowed before leaning back and letting his head rest against the wall. Whatever, he still thought it was a weird name. Janus... He’s never going to get used to that. Maybe he should stop reading fan speculations on them though. Perhaps if he hadn’t been thinking of Deceit as Damien this whole time he wouldn’t have had such a strong reaction to Janus. Not that he wouldn’t have teased him. He absolutely would. He’d been upset at the serpentine side as it was. He’d been about ready to snap the whole time and the frog thing happened and D, Janus showed up and he didn’t know how to feel or what to think. So, yes he lashed out. He tried to get a little control over the situation because he couldn’t deal with one more thing tilting his worldview. And then... He felt the couch shift under an added weight. Right, Virgil is here with him. He glanced aside. Virgil was sitting on the armrest, looking at him expectantly. He normally would protest against Virgil putting his shoes on the couch, but right now he couldn’t care less. His friend needed a summary. “He... replaced Logan again and pushed Patton into being a frog monster. Accused Patton of deceiving Thomas, on accident, but still, and then he... Convinced Patton and Thomas to like him.” he summarized. Creating a monster to fight so he could be the hero. How absolutely despicable. “... Wait back up... Logan, is Logan alright?” “Physically or emotionally?” Roman asked dryly. Because apparently Thomas and Patton forgot that Janus hurt others. Hurt Thomas, hurt Patton, Virgil and Logan. And yes, Roman too felt hurt by the snake. Remus might be the only side not hurt by him and that was because Remus lacked the attention span to be upset at anything. He envied that sometimes. The ability to not care at all. Suddenly there was knocking on Roman’s door. “Roman? You in there sport? I brought hot coco?” It was Patton. Roman grabbed one of the fallen cushions, put it between his stomach and his legs, which he pulled towards his chest and curled up in a ball. He didn’t want to talk to him right now. After a moment of silence he heard Virgil get up, walk away and then he heard the door open. “He’s taking a nap. Seems really out for the count. I was going to check up on Logan next, but could you do that? You know how emotional roller coasters like today take it out of me. Besides, I think Lo would much rather hear from you anyway. I’m going to nap in here. My room is a bit too much for me right now you know?” “Oh, of course Kiddo! You take it easy. I’m going to need to talk to you about something though...” “How you’ve left Janus of all people in charge of Thomas’s post learning moment aftercare? Yeah, Roman gave me the headlines. I trust your judgment Patton. But I don’t trust Jan. Not for a second. He’d never hurt Thomas on purpose, i know that, none of us would. Thomas isn’t self-destructive by nature. The problem is, I’m not sure if he’s ready to see that he can hurt him on accident.” It was quiet for a minute. “I think I know what that’s like... I’m really sorry kiddo. I know that I’ve been the cause of a lot of your pain too,” their paternal side offered softly. Silence. Roman imagined that Virgil was speechless by that declaration. That was Janus’s great power. He’d gotten Patton to think that he was the bad guy. Patton! “I remember when Thomas was still young and you just started to really manifest. Before... Before we pushed you away as a bad thing. You’d hang onto me and panic whenever I got nervous about Thomas doing a wrong thing, thinking a bad thought... I did that to you. Because I was too strict and I was teaching you to think in black and white too. And when we pushed you away... Of course you thought you had to be the bad guy to do your job. I taught you that. And I hate it. I wish I could go back. Go back and hug little you and me and say that it’s okay. But I can’t. I just hope that you’ll believe me when I say... I’m really sorry and I’ll try to be better.” A few more moments of silence. “Pops... you aren’t entirely to blame for me believing I was bad. Janus, has just as much to do with that, if not more.” Roman forced himself to stay where he was. He knew it! He knew there was a reason Virgil reacted to the others like that. He should’ve listened to him. Asked about his history before. The whole callback situation wouldn’t have been such a stressful episode if he had just heard Virgil out. “What do you mean kiddo?” “The thing about him is, he deals in extremes. Today you might have seen him in a sincere and nurturing mood, but we have all seen how deceitful and destructive and manipulative he can be,” Virgil explained gently. Mindful of a sleeping friend who wasn’t really asleep. “You saw what that behavior did to Roman, even if he didn’t mean to hurt him.” Roman felt a jolt of warmth at the protective edge that coated Virgil’s voice at that statement. Oh, how had he been so wrong about him? All this time he could’ve had a valiant knight at his side. “One moment he looks at you and sees a friend a brother... A son.” That nearly made Roman jump up again. Janus had hurt Virgil, that was the only explanation for the way his voice softened at that last title. He’d slay the demon. They’d already established that nothing they did could do physical damage to the others as long as they didn’t let it have power over them. Janus, who’d been wrangling Remus for years, would surely not blink an eye at being run through, or beheaded. So it wouldn’t be that bad if he and Virgil got a few therapeutic stabs in for their benefit... but for now he forced himself to remain silent. He’d talk to Virgil about the best way to avenge him later. After Patton left them alone. “The next, you are a pawn to be manipulated in any way that suits what he thinks to be the greater good in that moment. And when he speaks you never know for certain if it’s a painful truth you need to hear to become better, stronger, or a hurtful lie to make you suit his needs.” ‘I don’t need to flatter you’... ‘Who is the evil twin’ Virgil took in a long breath and let it out with a sigh. “It’s a long story, and you should really go get Logan hot coco just the way he likes it. He deserves some patented Patton love as well.” “Alright kiddo. Thanks for being honest with me. I hope you’ll tell us all the story later so we can understand. But take your time. And thank you for trying to spare my feelings by not telling me that Roman isn’t ready for a talk yet.” Well, there went that illusion. “You two rest up. Take care of him for me, and tell him... Tell him I’m sorry I let him down.” Again Roman nearly went for the door. But he wasn’t ready. With the way he was feeling now, he’d lash out again and he didn’t know for sure who would have to face the brunt of his emotional outbursts. “I’m sure he’d say that you did nothing of the sort. Don’t let Janus get into your head too much. Ugly truths and painful lies Patton. Don’t fall for the latter just because he gave you a little of the former,” Virgil warned. “I’ll keep that in mind. Good night then. Thomas should be taking a day or two to relax and take care of himself so you should get plenty of time to recover,” Patton assured Virgil. “Night, see you in a minute when something goes wrong anyway.” Roman could hear Patton chuckle before the door closed. He expected Virgil to come back to sit where he sat before right away, but he heard him moving around the room and then the kitchen... What was going on? Suddenly he felt a blanket being draped over him, pillows being put all around and Virgil’s warm body joining his under the blanket. “You tell anyone about this, I’ll deny it until the end times. But pillows and blankets help me feel safer sometimes. And you know, Logan told me once that physical contact with a friend can be calming or whatever I didn’t really listen to the whole thing, you know how he kind of goes on. But I wrote down the gist of his tips. And then there is the always reliable, comfort food,” he announced as he gave Roman a fresh cup of hot coco with little marshmallows and rainbow sprinkles and whipped cream. What had Roman nearly tear up was that it was in his mug. One with a little Stitch figure that said “Ohana Means Family”. Not one of Patton’s pet themed mugs. His own. Virgil had made him this from scratch. Exactly the way he’d like it when he’s feeling down. He heard a clank and saw that Virgil had also put down a can of rainbow mini muffins. He kept those around to have as a treat on good and bad days. They had a delicious molten chocolate filling. When had Virgil even see him take one? It didn’t matter. This was everything he needed to get through the story he would have to tell, and the one he had to hear. “So, spill,” Virgil instructed as he laid a hand on his back in support. With a deep breath Roman told him everything as he’d experienced it from the moment he’d gotten home until the moment he’d popped up in Virgil’s room. By the end he was sobbing. The mug of hot coco was halfway, but stood on the coffee table as he was busy ruining Virgil’s hoodie with his tears. Damn all of this. He was too tired to hang on to his pride. Virgil didn’t make fun of him though he let him cry and listened to his exclamations of: “I just don’t understand what I did wrong? Why... Why am I the bad guy in this? Didn’t I do the right thing? Going to the wedding? I just... I just wanted to do the right thing. Thomas counted on me to give him hope. To rise above the challenge and defy that serpent’s scheme despite the odds. But other than a brief feeling of victory... I’ve never felt worse. I mean, Remus got the better of me for the first time in ages. It’s not right! Why do I feel like I’m being punished for doing what we knew was right, while Janus is being celebrated? Janus was wrong... Wasn’t he?” He’s glad Virgil is the only witness to this breakdown. If Patton saw this, he would blame himself. And Logan might try to help but have not much helpful to offer, other than an objective analysis or an experiment that might nudge Roman in the right direction, but he was in no mood to dissect any complicated explanations. Remus would make him feel worse, same goes for Janus, even if he were to try and be helpful it would only confuse Roman even more. And then there was... Well, he never was much help when it comes to solving problems. There was a reason why he hadn’t joined them in the physical world for any of their discussions. And Thomas... God he’d never regain Thomas’s respect if he’d see him like this. “You did good Ro. But we all knew that we felt conflicted about it when we left the door. We’re all on edge and from the sound of it, you weren’t at fault in the escalation of the conflict. Patton is the one who wasn’t honest with himself out of fear to disappoint Thomas. And Janus was the one to push him to the edge. And it was Janus who’d hurt you in the past and didn’t bother to apologize or acknowledge it had even happened. Of course you were on edge around him. But that’s just how he is,” Vigil sighed as he rubbed Roman’s back soothingly. That reminded Roman... He sat up and wiped his eyes. “What happened? You said that Janus was a big part of the reason you thought you were bad or something?” Roman asked picking up his mug to give himself something to focus on other than the soul bearing moment they’d shared. Virgil sighed and looked up to the swirling lines that decorated his ceiling. “Right. Remember the last time I had one of my fits before I started hanging with the others?” Roman nodded. He didn’t like thinking back to that time. He and Remus hadn’t been separated for that long yet and there were times when he still felt wrong without him. And in those moments he blamed Virgil, then still just fear. He remembered little of being ‘The King’, didn’t even really recall their old name, but one of the things he did remember was the split. He was thinking of something he thought was funny, something with a word mom would scold them for, but that made it even funnier. Patton had scolded him and something about the reprimand had triggered Fear. Ironically, seeing Fear in distress like that had triggered a protective instinct in the king and he’d been so eager to comfort the boy. He’d been torn. Part of him wanted to defy Patton and tell Fear that Thomas wouldn’t get in trouble for a small thing like that. The other wanted to promise to never think of anything upsetting ever again so the little timid boy could relax a little and play with them. Next thing he knew one part was promising these things while hugging Virgil and another was giggling and running around shouting all kinds of strange and bad things and letting his train of thought jump from one topic to another as random things kept catching his attention. Virgil had always been the inspiration for the noble prince. For his first act had been to protect the confused boy from the source of his troubles. He’d called for his princely attire to resemble the prince in Cinderella and swung his sword, then still a harmless toy sword, and Remus had actually enjoyed playing a ferocious dragon. And Virgil had laughed at their game and relaxed. Roman and Remus never questioned their existence... But Patton and Logan had been surprised and Patton had soon come to understand that all the things he would scold the king for were stuck in the green twin, while all the nice thoughts were with the red one, who introduced himself as Roman to them. Roman received praise and watched his brother get scolded and eventually ‘the snake man’ had come to pick is brother up from their room. Roman had pleaded not to of course, as any decent brother would. But then the snake man said something that terrified him. Thomas didn’t want his brother’s thoughts in his head. So the snake man took his brother somewhere where Thomas could pretend he didn’t exist. And he’d forced Roman to stand still and let Thomas forget about the other creativity. He couldn’t even mention him again. Not when Thomas might hear at least. That had scared Roman. When he told Patton about where his brother was taken he’d been assured that something like that would never happen to him. Thomas loved being creative. Roman was the hero. He got to be at the wheel almost all the time. He was the Prince after all... It had been comforting and terrifying at the same time. What if he messed up? Would Thomas stop loving him? It was then that the feeling of wrongness started showing up. And that scared him even more. He couldn’t miss being with Remus. Remus was bad, Roman was good. And good people didn’t want to be around bad people. Bad people were put away and forgotten about. It was while he was in one of these moments of self-doubt that Fear panicked at something he considered irrelevant. It had gotten to Roman and he’d blown up at Fear for freaking out over a stupid stain. This had triggered Virgil even more and Thomas had jumped back and knocked over one of the nice glasses from the counter somehow. His mother had been angry, but in that worried way only parents can really pull off. This however had gotten Patton and Logan’s attention. Logan had scolded Fear because his disproportionate reaction to a small problem created a bigger one. Patton had scolded him because Thomas was in trouble now and it was their task to keep him out of trouble. Roman had wanted to tell the others that Fear had reacted to him shouting, not the stain, but the others were already telling Fear that if he didn’t watch out, he would be pushed away and then what would happen to Thomas? This had caused Fear to run away and next time Roman saw him, he was ‘a bad guy’. “I never really said i was sorry. I swear I wanted to explain to the others why you freaked, I did, but next time we saw you...” He didn’t know where to look. He felt so ashamed of his actions. Virgil patted his back. “It’s alright Sir Singalot,” he grinned, using the nickname that Roman had approved off as a sign of peace. “You guys didn’t push me away. That’s just how you see it now through a veil of guilt. I never intended to leave. I needed to get away for a minute,” Virgil explained casually, but then his voice grew tense as his eyes darkened at the memory.

“And he was right there,” he whispered and Roman could imagine the figure swooping in. Offering an insecure and neglected side a comforting embrace. “He was telling me both the things I feared to be true and things I wanted to hear someone say.”

He could imagine that too. The smooth voice spinning truths and lies in a delicate trap to lure young Fear to his side of the consciousness.

“He told me that you guys would never really want me around. But he also said that that was stupid of you because I keep Thomas safe. That you needed me more than you realize. And if you weren’t going to listen to simple reason, then I’d have to be loud so I couldn’t be ignored.” Virgil looked back towards Roman for with a sad, understanding smile.

“He might have believed he was helping me. That he was saving me many more of these arguments. He’ll probably swear up and down that he was looking out for me and Thomas and even all of you.” Roman got the idea that Virgil was trying to say something about Janus’ intentions towards him as well. But he couldn’t find the will to believe that the man hadn’t been malicious towards him or even any of the others when he did the things he did. Good intentions or not –like with the cake the end result was still the same. Virgil seemed to agree, because his face darkened again as he continued his story.

“But when he found me after you guys accepted me, he started saying those things again and I said he was wrong and that we’d all been going about it the wrong way. I wanted us all to step into the sun...”

“Dear Evan Hansen,” Roman grinned teasingly to lighten the mood. He got a playful shove and a smirk. He’d take the victory. It kind of made him feel better. To know that he could still be a good friend despite the disaster of today.

“He slipped,” Virgil continued. “Or maybe he thought I’d feel bad for him and stay... I don’t know. He broke my trust and I’ll never be able to be sure if he’s truthful with me... But that day, he said he wouldn’t let you guys take me away from him.” Roman’s eyes widened as the implications of that sunk in. He wasn’t sure if he felt sorry for the man or wanted to punch him even more.

“I realized in that moment that he had manipulated the truth to ensure that I wouldn’t get along with you guys. He was lonely and he didn’t want to share. So he took of the blindfold and broke the piñata open to get the friend he wanted. And for years, that worked. But then, because Thomas accepted that he has anxiety, I got a real seat at the table, even if no one liked me being there. And then we worked together in the open more often and well... You know what happened. He hated that I spent time with you guys. He hated that I had nice things to say about Patton, that I kind of appreciated the debate with Logan... That I admired your... drive.”

“Wait what?” Roman shot up in surprise, nearly losing the cover of the blanket in the process. He hadn’t expected a sincere complement. He’d been ready for a little jab like ‘tolerated your presence’ or something. Not admiration...

“Don’t make me regret this... I always kind of looked up to you. Because you were never afraid to go for what you want. I don’t envy that ability. But I think it’s cool that you can.”

Roman was speechless. It succeeded in making him feel a bit better, but it also left him in awe of his friend. This is why he appreciated Virgil so much. He was sincere. Always. He didn’t sugarcoat anything he said what he thought the way he thought it. He might have learned to voice his concerns more clearly and less like death threats, but he still said what was on his mind. So a complement like this form him? Well, that was the highest praise he could imagine.

“Anyway...” Virgil continued with a blush, avoiding Roman’s gaze. “Feeding your ego aside.” He took a deep breath which brought Roman back to the here and now. Right serious talk time.

“The fight got ugly. I accused him of lying to me all this time for selfish reasons. He denied the reasons I gave, but not the fact that he lied. I got so mad. I told him to stay away from us. That I never wanted to see his face again. And I’ve been pissed ever since. I didn’t want you guys anywhere near him, because I can’t be sure that he won’t hurt you the way he hurt me, whether he wants to or not. And I was right. He hurt you, he hurt Patton and Logan and even Thomas. It all led to a big lesson about self-care and everything. But I agree, we can’t let our guard down around him. Ever.”

Roman hugs Virgil close. “Want me to stab him for you? Because I would totally stab him for you,” he promises.

Virgil allows a small chuckle and returns the hug. “I’ll think about it.”

Just then their surroundings changed and they were sitting on the bed in the bedroom. “Thomas must be getting ready for the night,” Roman observed, some rest would be great. Dreams took care of themselves. He could chose to influence them but tonight he couldn’t be bothered. Remus might give them some weird twists but who cared? At this rate, they’d also let him have a seat at the table one of these days so he might as well start getting used to having him around again. But if Remus was accepted back, would that make them be ‘the king’ again? No. Not thinking about that tonight.

He felt Virgil get up next to him. “I’ll get going then...”

“No,” Roman hurried as he pulled Virgil back into his side. This got him a surprised look, but he didn’t care. “Neither of us should really be alone right now don’t you think? And I don’t think you were exactly lying when you said your room was too intense for you right now,”

Virgil shrugged. “No... But...”

Just then they both manifested their sleepwear. A comfy shirt and sweats in their respective colors.

“Thomas is going to sleep. We should too... And I really don’t want to be alone with my thoughts right now,” he confessed. This seemed to convince Virgil. It wasn’t like it would be the first time. Well it was the first time they’d both sleep in his bed and in their pj’s. But it had happened that one of them dozed off on the other ones shoulder during a movie a few times. No big deal.

So along with Thomas they settled in for the night.

Virgil felt that Roman was still tense and it was affecting Thomas’s ability to fall asleep. At least, Virgil told himself that this was the reason why he turned towards him wrapped his arms around his fellow side and started singing, his voice drifting through the dark room. “There are shouters and murmurers, loan sharks and burglars...” by the end of the song both had relaxed and drifted off to sleep.

There it’s not perfect, i started writing at nine in the evening and it’s now almost two. So my brain is fried. Might write a follow up shorter bit about the inside out perspective on the last scene with Lee and Mary Lee when I’m actually awake. Edit: Fixed the spelling a bit

With love lovelivingmydreams

Next part this is going to be longer than I planned

#Sanders Sides #Spoilers #Prinxiety #Roman #Virgil #Patton #Logan #new episode #I need to vent about my prince #Deceit

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thehoardofthegreatdragon · 4 years

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Urahara Kisuke: "Come on baby, I know the law" But Actually Illegal

Hello and welcome to Coco has Too Many Feelings Hour. Today, it’s a character analysis of Urahara Kisuke because what gave him the fucking right to be so cool? WHAT GAVE HIM THE RIGHT?

Anyway. This is going to be half based on his dialogue, and half based on general action patterns, since both are damn interesting. There will be spoilers for most things but I’ll try to keep things after the Aizen arc vague. Also, it should go without saying that this is all my interpretation and very biased (extra biased because I Love Him).

[AKA: This is like, just my opinion, man.]

Now before we begin can we just pause to appreciate how beautiful he is? If you haven’t, stare at this picture for at least a minute. Go on, I’ll time you.

Now we can move on.

Kisuke is, in a word, complicated. If I had to describe him (and considering that’s the point of this entire goddamn document, I better try), I’d say he’s a man with unstoppable curiosity and a heart that is far too soft to handle the fallout of his own invention.

No matter where you put him, no matter what time he’s born into, he will create a weapon he shouldn’t have. He has this strange bit of naïveté about his science at first, but it fades as he sees what his science has done to people he cares for. He has a good heart-- a soft heart, under it all-- so he can’t just accept the damage he’s done and move on. He turns that genius to invention, so that he can fix the things he broke. He wants to help everyone he can, because he hurt so many.

But that doesn’t ever make the guilt go away, and it doesn’t stop him from using people when he has to— we see this happen with Ichigo in the Soul Society invasion arc. Kisuke uses him to achieve his goals, but he is far from happy about it and apologizes afterwards.

Alright, into the meat of his character. I’m going to skim over the fact that he is arguably one of the strongest characters in the entire show, a man who plans for every eventuality compulsively because he understands that people die in battle (people die when they are killed), and so intelligent that he was one of the few people Aizen actually was wary of. I’m skimming it, because otherwise this already too long essay would be three times as long and wax rhapsodic about every way that he is, in fact, an incredible badass.

[IM SKIPPING IT FOR ALL OUR SAKES OKAY.]

He will and does help people, but he’s very guarded. It makes a terrible kind of sense, because he worked in the Omnitsukidō, and I don’t think anyone can come out of a spy and assassination agency without some jadedness. The exile doesn’t help either, because now he’s been forced to deal with the fallout from a betrayal and the loss of his home too.

That being said, the exile also made him more of his own man. Freer, in many ways. More able to be the eccentric self he wants to, better adapted to life, more likely to see how people could use him and less likely to let it happen. I think the living world suits him in a way that Soul Society never really did.

At his core he's a good person, but he built walls upon walls around himself. And those walls never come down, and some of them are mirrors, and some of them are smokescreens that don’t look like walls, because he can never be simple and he doesn’t want to be understood. And even if someone does see part of who he is, he wants them to only see that particular part.

He is an eccentric free spirit whose drive for invention cost him more dearly than anything else. His will to create, his truest self— the scientist, with inventions to make and the world to explore— started a war. It ruined the lives of people he wanted to be friends, and people who were friends.

And as a scientist, that’s the greatest blow of all. It’s like Oppenheimer and the atomic bomb. He created a weapon he couldn’t control, but he did it with something he loved with his whole heart. It hurts twice as deeply, when it comes from love.

He’s also a follower more than a leader. Kisuke is the support type, for all his fighting skill— he’s ready with backup plans and transportation and research, but he needs a person to follow into battle. For a long time that was Yoruichi. Then he stood on his own as a captain, but the way he did it was by structuring his division into a support division rather than a truly fighting one (his own way of coping with new leadership, imo. He turned the 12th into the division he wanted it to be, rather than really learning how to lead a fighting division).

Then he had to stand on his own, in exile, and he did. I imagine this was mostly fueled by guilt and determination, because he had to fix the mess he had helped create and defeat Aizen. But even still, he still kept to the shadows and planned Aizen’s downfall, rather than stepping on the battlefield and doing it himself (for many reasons, of course— Aizen was still in Soul Society’s good graces and it would have been suicide, Kisuke is not a foolish man who would throw away the best chance at success for a fight).

And at last, he chose Ichigo to follow. But this is doubly interesting because at first he is uses Ichigo to achieve his goals. Supposedly, Kisuke himself couldn’t have gone to Soul Society to rescue Rukia (because of the exile, though let’s face it Kubo’s world building doesn’t explain how Yoruichi could go so who really knows. And Kisuke being Kisuke, would have found a way into Soul Society if he thought it would help their fight against Aizen. Anyone who doesn’t believe that can see the TYBW arc and Fight Me).

But there were many people who had a better chance of going in his stead, and many ways to save Rukia that didn’t involve a straightforward invasion. This is not to mention that Kisuke used Rukia too, with the intention of forcing Aizen’s hand.

So when Ichigo and Kisuke first meet, he views Ichigo as a tool (and a person, because he’s a good man and never free of the guilt).

But with each battle, we see how Kisuke trusts Ichigo more and more. This progression continues until the last battle with Aizen, and then after that Kisuke stands behind Ichigo with absolutely no hesitation. Throughout the last arc, throughout the remainder of the manga, when Ichigo needed him, Kisuke was there— with supplies, with research, with a path to Hueco Mundo, hell even with a path to the big palace up in the sky. And Kisuke trusted Ichigo absolutely— see the panel where Ichigo asks Kisuke to hold out until he gets there, and everything will be alright because Ichigo will handle it. And Kisuke’s response to that is just a smile and a single word— “Understood.”

The trust between them is absolute. This is surprising, if you think of how few people Kisuke has really trusted over the years, and how few he trusts to this extent.

[It’s also very interesting that of all the people Ichigo choses to tell to “wait for me,” it’s Kisuke but that’s just my loyalty kink showing up don’t mind me.]

Once the guilt of using him was gone, Kisuke could follow the leader he’d chosen. And he did, endlessly.

On that note, Kisuke’s dialogue choice with Ichigo develops in a very interesting way. In the beginning its challenging and on the ruthless side (“don’t use her as an excuse to kill yourself,” for example), into something much more trusting and less challenging (the “understood” for instance, or the “what would you like me to do” ). This evolution tracks with the evolution of Kisuke’s changing attitude towards Ichigo.

We move from Kisuke only promising to help when he extracts something in return (“Do you really think, there is no way to get to Soul Society? I’ll tell you, on one condition.”) to Kisuke offering to help Ichigo before being asked (“My my, you guys sure are having an interesting conversation. So, this Hueco Mundo trip. Shall I arrange it?”).

[Imagine how much literally anyone else would pay to have a scientist of Kisuke’s caliber basically on retainer. And Ichigo gets it for the low low price of absolutely free.]

All this is to say, that I think that Kisuke can and is always ready for any eventuality but that it’s only after his trust is earned by Ichigo that he gives his plans so easily to other people. He has chosen a king, so to speak.

[Don’t call out my power kink or I will personally end you.]

Moving on to dialogue in general, we see many damn interesting patterns. Perhaps intentionally, Kisuke's a bit on a different wavelength, and no one expects the answers he gives to any questions. Its eccentricity, but honed into a weapon and very self-aware. He often interprets questions in different ways than expected, like he’s purposefully setting people off guard.

Consider the following response he gives to an enemy in later chapters (TYBW arc):

“Asking me such a personal question, is really more of a second date thing.”

He’s never met this person before in his life, and his response is to just, straight up flirt. THIS IS FLIRTING. KISUKE. WHY ARE YOU FLIRTING. HE’S NOT EVEN HOT.

Anyway. In general, Kisuke has two broad categories of speech patterns: completely serious and teasing-playful-fake-humble. Unlike many other characters who use a baiting tone and words against enemies (Frankenstein from Noblesse comes to mind as an example), Kisuke uses them on friends and enemies alike. And his tone isn’t really mocking but fake-humble and fake-playful.

Examples of this—

“Oh? You know of me. What an honor.” (Said behind fan)

“It’s wedged in their rather fatally, Yoruichi-san!” (Said to Yoruichi’s ass)

[Seriously, who does this asshole think he is? Yoruichi kicks him and I’m glad she does.]

He's very often cheerful, and usually smiling as he speaks. I’d say his eyes are the biggest giveaway to his emotion because they dont really ever soften. (And because Kubo has a Thing for drawing them covered in shadows and looking badass, see Exhibit: Oh No He’s Hot, pictured below)

In this playful mode, even when he apologizes it’s usually in a way that somehow makes it worse. He’s constantly either annoying people or throwing them off guard or a combination, but in a much more cheerful eccentric way than say, Frankenstein. For example, after he says the line above to Yoruichi (in the middle of a battle, I might add), he says this:

“Why would you kick me? I came to help. I’m sorry, perhaps the expression “wedged in” was a bit vulgar.”

He’s managed to repeat the thing that made her kick him, in a way that almost makes it worse, but in a way that makes it seem like hes trying to apologize. It’s very clever, and also ideal for pissing people off, intentional or not. (But who are we kidding, this is Kisuke. It’s definitely intentional).

But he can also switch to a serious mode quite quickly, seemingly able to interweave the two modes without really needing to break between them. This most often comes out when there is someone to save or protect.

[Because he's secretly a softie, as mentioned above, god I love him]

For example, when Masaki is in danger, even tho he's never met her or the soul reapers before (and when his very existence should make him avoid Isshin), he says this:

“We dont have time to waste. Both of you, please come with me. I will tell you the choices you have to save her.”

It’s to the point, succinct, polite, and also filled with a desire to save. It’s also completely at odds with his playful tone when he speaks in other times. I think this dichotomy is the core of Kisuke. Of course he's playful and eccentric— and this makes him the delightful character he is— but at his core he's a man who cares about people and wants to help. He doesn’t hesitate to apologize when he is in the wrong either, kneeling before Ichigo after the Soul Society arc and not asking for forgiveness but explaining why he is sorry. (Ichigo forgives him, because Ichigo will always forgive him, and that hurts even more).

But even when there are threats to life, if they've been dealt with and he's in a controlled environment, he pulls out the playful act again, though it often has an edge. For example, after he saves Ichigo for the first time he says this:

“What? You sound upset. Didn’t you want to be saved?”

It’s on the edge of teasing but its also much more pointed than anything else he's said to Ichigo at this point. It’s followed by some of the rawest and cruelest lines of dialogue I’ve ever read, because Kisuke doesn’t flinch back from being harsh when he has to be.

Even his cruelty, when he is forced to use it, comes from a place of care and a desire to help. Doesn’t stop it from stinging like hell.

It’s at this point where I descended into crying about Kisuke and how good he was and how much I love him, and so decided to stop.

In summary: Kisuke is a good man who couldn’t stop himself from inventing the most destructive weapon to exist. But he’s a good man, and so he spent a century crafting his own penance.

General Kisuke Dialogue I’ve collected, in case people find it useful:

Stop fighting, you two. It’s my fault, I should have disposed of it.

We have no choice. We’ve got to find it and neutralize it before it causes any trouble.

No way, accidents happen! Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything. There now, its okay.

Good, let’s move! Operation “recall”

Well look here. We finally find you, and you’re already incapacitated. What a waste. We lugged all this stuff here for nothing.

I’m going to destroy it. Hmm. I’m not sure how to answer that.

This is serious. I won’t take the fall for you.

No no, Kurosaki-san. Your wounds have barely closed. If you move around too much, you’ll die <3.

Do you really think, there is no way to get to Soul Society?

I’ll tell you, on one condition. For the next ten days, you must allow me to train you.

You don’t understand. What I’m trying to tell you is they’ll kill you.Could you win? If you fought them as you are? I allowed you to fight them this time, because I thought it would make it easier for you to understand. At your current level of ability, you wouldn’t stand a chance in soul society. You’re weak. For you to venture into enemy territory now would be suicide. You want to save Kuchiki-san? Don’t make me laugh. Don’t use her as an excuse to kill yourself.

Of course. If you wish to save Kuchiki-san with your whole heart, then you have at your disposal a power stronger than iron. But if your resolve is half-hearted, forget it. For the next ten days, I’m going to put you through the wringer.

What? You sound upset. Didn’t you want to be saved?

He went home. His wound bled a lot, but it wasn’t severe.

Couldn’t you have come up with anything better? [how lame]

Looks like I was a step too late.

What would you like me to do? Shall I book a ticket to reiokyu? It may take me some time though. [to ichigo]

We dont have time to waste. Both of you, please come with me. I will tell you the choices you have to save her.

My my, you guys sure are having an interesting conversation. So, this Hueco Mundo trip. Shall I arrange it?

[I] its usually like this with Urahara. [K] you know me too well <3

Oh? You know of me. What an honor. (Said behind fan)

To be included in such an esteemed group, I don’t know what to say. Its an honor, but he’s giving me too much credit.

It’s wedged in their rather fatally, Yoruichi-san!

Why would you kick me? I came to help. I’m sorry, perhaps the expression “wedged in” was a bit vulgar (makes fake apologies a lot)

Asking me such a personal question, is really more of a second date thing.

You see, even if I don’t tell you, you’ll be up close and personal with it soon enough.

#urahara kisuke #character analysis #bleach #yes I have too many feelings don't @ me #catch coco crying on main again about kisuke #to the surprise of everyone #im a Kisuke stan

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whattimeisitintokyo · 3 years

Note

Hola, so I have a question related to your Somos Familia story and I hope it's okay to ask. Some time earlier I was actually rereading the story and the question actually built as I got to a chapter where Hector got... well...kicked out of his own home.

I was just wondering about the reason why Imelda'd done what she'd done. I understand that she was badly hurt and damaged and insecure once the whole difficulty in giving birth and having an operation shortly after had been made and I'm not saying her actions are complitely wrong, but according to circumstances I'm not really sure that they were necessary. I mean she has built a life and family and business with a man that I think has never done anything that would make her think he'd want to leave her or would feel any kind of emotional detachment from her. And if we think of this story as somethink we could've imagined plot for even outside the written chapters I'm still not sure Hector could've been anything less than loving and supportive as always. So what I'm actually wondering about is not why Imelda had felt what she had felt. Those things are pretty serious, especially at those times, but what I'm wondering about is a reason why she'd never spoken to her husband about it. Or even just asked it he finds her unattractive or less valuable to him if she was so afraid. Either way, I think any of those options could've been better than keeping distance and building distrust just because she'd thought that he would leave her eventually.

I know this is more of an analysis than a question and I'm sorry if I brought up any wrong view into the question, but I just wanted to know why didn't she trust him, but instead thought the worst would happen to her?

My reasoning kind of came from the movie itself.

Hector left Imelda alone with Coco but with the intention of coming back. But when the letters stopped coming and he never returned it didnt seem like her first thought was that something terrible had happened to him, despite how much he loved them both. Instead she assumed that he abandoned them, so she banned music and the mention of him from her life forever, causing serious repercussions throughout the years that she didnt know would occur.

Now for my story Imelda had a very traumatic birth with Miguel and as a result had to have invasive surgery that made her, in her own mind, half the woman she used to be. On top of that she knows that her husband is more famous than her, is extremely wealthy and could have any woman that he wants.

So again she assumes the worst.

She tries to make it easier for Hector to leave by acting distant and unloving, but in the end it only breaks his heart and brings him great depression.

All in all it was a lot of traumatic events, self image issues and pride from keeping her from confessing her fears to Hector.

Sometimes mama doesnt know best.

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pengychan · 4 years

Text

[Coco] Showtime

Title: Showtime Summary: Honestly, ‘Ernesto’ and ‘stage fright’ had no business being in the same sentence at all. And yet there they were. Characters: Ernesto de la Cruz, Héctor Rivera Rating: K

A/N: I wrote this fic for @tomato-bitch for the Cocolocos server Valentine Exchange. I, uh, hope you like it?

***

“Come on! Let’s show them!”

“Neto, wait!”

“What, are you afraid?”

Of course, Héctor was aware he was being baited; Ernesto was terrible at subtlety - sure he was, everything about him was so forward and loud and in-your-face - and even aged six, he could tell.

On the other hand, there is no worse insult for a little boy than the implication he might be afraid of something, and Héctor had no choice but to respond precisely the way Ernesto wanted.

“I’m not afraid!” he protested, and it wasn’t even a lie. He was not afraid of attention - he didn’t even dislike attention - only that he didn’t see the thrill in seeking it out. Also, it kind of sucked that Ernesto got to stand on the crate and sing while he was there to bang on a pot. And probably look very dumb while doing so.

“Then let’s go, come on!” Ernesto huffed, grabbing his sleeve and pulling him along. “Ugh, you’re such a pain, may as well go at it alone!”

Now that was something that really stung, really scared him: Héctor didn’t want to be left behind. “I’m not a pain! I can help!” he protested, his voice breaking up a little, which in turn made him feel even more embarrassed.

It caused Ernesto to pause and turn, letting go of his arm. “No no no-- wait, don’t cry, come on,” he muttered, bending his knees to be at his same eye level, the day Héctor would surpass him in height still far away in time. “I didn’t mean it. I’m not going to really go at it alone. Wouldn’t be Héctor y Ernesto without Héctor, no?”

Ah, that was enough to make Héctor smile, it took so little. Ernesto always insisted on having his name first, regardless of Héctor's opinion that Ernesto y Héctor didn’t sound nearly as good as Héctor y Ernesto; it just didn’t roll off the tongue as well. It was nice hearing him say his way for once. “No,” he agreed. “It wouldn’t.”

“Right. So we’ll do it together, sí? Get us enough pesos to get so many sweets, we’re gonna feel sick and then have more sweets. So, ready?”

In all fairness, it was a sound plan to a six year old. Héctor grinned, already looking forward to stuffing his face. He lifted up his pot and the stick. “Ready!”

Ernesto grinned back, showing off a gap where one of his baby teeth had fallen off and had yet to be replaced by a new one, and ruffled Héctor’s hair before patting his shoulder.

“Then let’s go, hermanito. It’s showtime.”

***

“Look at that! A full plaza!” Héctor laughed, let the curtain drop again and turned, a dumb smile spreading on his face.

Truth be told the main reason why he’d accepted to go with Ernesto to the festival in San Luz wasn’t about crowds and cheers, or even music - not that he minded either - as much as it was about money. They were going to be well paid, more than they would make in a month playing in the plaza in Santa Cecilia, and it would be enough to get a brand new crib for the coming baby. And toys, and possibly something nice for Imelda, since she was doing most of the work carrying their baby.

It was amazing, how she breezed through it like it was nothing, and now he was there to do his share, so that he could support their little family. Their baby.

The first of many, he hoped.

Taken as he was by the thought, Héctor didn’t even notice how oddly silent Ernesto was despite having just heard there was a full plaza waiting to hear them play.

“Better than we hoped, isn’t i--” he began, only to trail off suddenly, taken aback, when his gaze fell on his best friend.

Ernesto was standing a few steps away from him, guitar in hand, a smile on his face. Except it looked more like a facial rictus than a smile. And his eyes were wide and fixed, his face covered in sweat. And his hands were gripping the guitar much too tight. And also, he was pale as ash.

“... Ernesto?” Héctor called out, walking up to him quickly and putting a hand on his shoulder. He felt so rigid, it was like touching a plank of wood covered in fabric. “What is it, amigo? Are you feeling sick? Ay, it was that chorizo, wasn’t it? I’m going to feel sick too in a minute and--”

Ernesto seemed to recoil and shook his head, stepping back with the least believable laugh Héctor had ever heard. It made him think of the creaking of rusty hinges, all of his natural charm just… gone. “No, no. All good,” Ernesto croaked, causing Héctor to roll his eyes.

“Look, if you’re not feeling well, we don’t have to perform,” he said. It would be a setback, because it would mean not getting paid, but he wasn’t going to force Ernesto to perform if he was feeling sick. It wouldn’t be right, and he was sure Imelda would understand.

Ernesto shook his head. “We must--”

“You sounded like you had a sea urchin stuck in your throat just now. There will be other chances.”

“I’m not feeling ill,” Ernesto lied, still looking a couple of moments away from collapse.

“That’s the worst you’ve ever been at telling a lie. At least let’s get someone else to go first, until you feel a bit better and--”

“Hey, you two,” a voice called out from backstage. “You’re on in five minutes.”

“Wait, can we swap places--” Héctor tried to ask, turning, but the man was already walking off, and he groaned. He turned back to Ernesto, and realized that now he looked like he was one moment away from collapse. He was paler, more rigid, eyes fixed on the curtain and… and…

Wait. Waaaait wait wait wait wait. Wait. That wasn’t sickness, was it?

For a moment, Héctor’s brain sputtered into a complete standstill. Suddenly, everything made sense and nothing did. Because someone having a bad case of stage fright before a big performance - the biggest yet - made perfect sense; Ernesto being that someone did not.

Honestly, ‘Ernesto’ and ‘stage fright’ had no business being in the same sentence at all.

“Huh,” Héctor said, entirely at a loss. Before him, Ernesto made another attempt at a Confident Smile. It was the most painful-looking grimace he’d ever witnessed.

“No need. I’m fine,” Ernesto strained to speak. If his grip on the guitar tightened another fraction, Héctor suspected, he’d soon hear the sound of cracking wood. And that would be bad, because he really didn’t think Ernesto could afford buying a new one.

“Hey now, don’t be nervous.”

“I’m not--” his best friend began, but his voice faded, and he just swallowed, looking down at his guitar. On the other side of the curtain, the current players were ending their performance; an unseen public cheered wildly. It didn’t seem an especially difficult crowd to please, if anything.

And Ernesto was a crowd-pleaser like no other. All would be well… as long as Héctor managed to get him back into working order, of course.

“I’m sure you’ll do great,” he said, trying to sound as confident as possible. Not the easiest thing to claim while looking at someone who looks close to a heart attack, but he’d always been good at bluffing.

Ernesto swallowed, and tried to scoff. “Of course. I always do.”

He… didn’t sound very convincing, but it was a start. “Then no reason for things to be different this time, no?” Héctor pointed out, and finally Ernesto looked back at him in the eye. He was still pale, still wide-eyed, and ah it felt so wrong to see him like that, seeking reassurance. This had never happened before; where had all his confidence gone? He had to swallow before he spoke.

“We never played for so many people.”

“I know. It’s exciting, no? You kept going on about what a good opportunity this was. Por Dios, you wouldn’t shut up about it for a minute the entire ride, what’s gotten into you?” Héctor managed a laugh that sounded almost easy, and put a hand on Ernesto’s shoulder again. “It will be all right. They’re going to love you.”

“What if they-- don’t?” he asked. He sounded scared in a way Héctor couldn’t recall seeing him since childhood. It was somewhat eerie, but he didn’t let it show. At least one of them had to be positive.

“Well, I’m no fortune teller, but I think we can rule out anything too extreme like hanging us to a telegraph pole, so we’ll probably live to perform again,” Héctor tried to joke, smiling. To his utter relief, the corners of Ernesto’s mouth twitched a moment. “Worst that happens, if this crowd has absolutely no taste, we’ll find out how good we are at dodging tomatoes. We had things thrown at us before, no? I mean, that guy last month threw rocks at us, remember?”

The twitch turned into something more similar to a smile. “That had nothing to do with music. It was because he’d found out I’d bedded his wif--”

“So what? Still rocks. What’s some rotten vegetables?” Héctor waved his hand dismissively. That was… probably not the time to express his disapproval for Ernesto’s utter inability to respect the sacred bond of marriage and all that. Not that he hadn’t tried, but each time he’d get a shug and something along the lines of ‘not my marriage, not my problem’.

“And besides, it won’t happen. We’ll go on stage, do our thing, and wow the crowd. That’s what we do, no? Héctor y Ernesto,” he added, giving Ernesto’s arm a light punch. “We’ll show them what good music is all about. Between that and your pretty, pretty face, they’d be crazy not to enjoy the show.”

Ernesto’s lips twitched again in something that was almost a smile. One last cheer beyond the curtain, and other musicians were walking back in, laughing, half-dancing and half-skipping. A man who seemed to be having nowhere as much fun peered over at them.

“Your turn, hombres.”

Héctor glanced at Ernesto, and patted his shoulder with a grin. “Come, amigo. It’s showtime.”

This time, Ernesto smiled - really smiled. He adjusted the strap of his guitar, wiped his forehead, and laughed; all of a sudden, he was himself again. “Hah! All right, let’s show them how it’s done. Where would I be without you?”

“Right now, probably hiding in the backstage,” Héctor replied, and ducked under a half-hearted swipe. They laughed, and he picked up his own guitar before following Ernesto to the stage, before a cheering crowd.

***

“ER-NES-TO! ER-NES-TO! ER-NES-TO!”

He can hear them calling out his name all the way from his dressing room; hundreds of voices, hundreds of people who paid months in advance to reserve a table for that performance in one of the most exclusive venues in Mexico City, with no greater wish than seeing him perform.

His family is out there, calling out for him, and how can he deny that call? He’ll answer, of course, give them the performance they want and bask in their adoration. In a minute.

As soon as his hair is done.

Ernesto de la Cruz brushes the forelock carefully, brushes his mustache, and flashes a smile at the mirror as he puts on his jacket and smooths down the fabric. Ah, yes - perfect. He’s ready. Only one thing missing, a little ritual of his that is far more important than his hair.

The guitar is leaning against the wall, the skull motif grinning at him. While it is an excellent instrument, Ernesto knows he doesn’t have to keep using it. He could have another made, newer, maybe even better; the best guitar makers in Mexico would die for the privilege. But he never will: this is more than just a guitar, and his to keep.

Ernesto picks it up and pats it fondly before smiling and saying the words he utters before every performance, without fail, letting them echo in the empty room.

“Showtime, old friend.”

***

(Part of this is very obviously based on the original deleted intro of the movie.)

#pixar coco #coco #ernesto de la cruz #hector rivera #cocolocos

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asgardianthot · 4 years

Text

A funeral chuckle (Sambucky AU) – Part 3

one / two / three

Summary: After the loss of a family member, Sam returns to his hometown, where an old crush awaits.

A/N: Last part! Kinda regretting making this a short fic now, is it too late to change that? Yes. It’s kind of a long chapter so make some time, make some hot coco :) Thank you so much for reading xx

Words: 4623

Warnings: grief, angst, closeted gay characters

"What is it?"

Steve didn’t drift his view from the road ahead to respond to his friend’s question. They had spent the majority of the trip so far in utter silence, ever since Steve picked Sam up from the airport, which led both of them to believe there was an elephant in the room; weirdly so, they weren’t too sure about what the elephant represented. Most of the chat had happened during the time Steve helped Sam put his luggage in the trunk, and it had consisted of an overwhelmingly casual conversation.

"What?" Steve directed the reply to Sam, who sat on the co-driver’s seat, but focused on driving.

"Whatever you're thinking about.” Sam insisted, not buying Steve’s innocent attitude, “Spit it out."

The blonde shrugged, "I'm not thinking anything."

"Bull."

"Seriously, my mind is blank."

There was a hint of amusement slowly escaping Steve’s tone, and it only exasperated Sam even further.

"Minds are never blank." Sam followed his lead.

"I thought that was the whole point of meditating."

"You meditate?" he raised his eyebrows with skepticism.

"Nah.” Steve finally dropped the act with a smile, “Buck tried to get me to do yoga once, but it wasn't my thing."

There it was. The elephant in the room was Bucky. Steve must have figured it out, or maybe taken a guess, putting two and two together. Maybe Bucky had been the one to speak out about the whole situation, but Sam doubted it. All he knew was Steve wasn’t stupid, so he knew the pair had fought or had gotten themselves into an impasse. The silence that the mere mention of Bucky’s name brought upon the men sitting in that moving car was more than enough proof.

"At least say something, I'm not spending half an hour in silence.” Sam brushed it off, letting the excess of air in his tense lungs seep through his nose, “Tell me anything. How's work?"

"We spoke last week, Sam, you know all about work.” Steve was practically begging Sam to be honest as he tapped the wheel with his thumb, impatiently; unfortunately, he knew better than push Sam when he clearly didn’t want to break character, “I'm just glad you're back in town, 's all. Your mom really needs you tomorrow."

Sam looked down and nodded, "Yeah, I know."

In the time Darlene had spent as a widow, she had contacted his son many times, which only added to Sam’s guilt for leaving her so violently soon after Paul’s death. They both knew each other well enough to understand Sam’s reasons, though, and Darlene had never been a dependent woman. That didn’t mean, however, that she didn’t need her son. She just didn’t like admitting it so he wouldn’t worry, but that ship had sailed long ago. This time around, Sam’s bag was bigger. He was staying as long as he needed to.

"And I know last time was tough- I'm not asking.” Steve made sure to let Sam know he wasn’t prying, after all, “But maybe it'll be better this time around."

The occasion sort of sounded like a second funeral. And somehow, it kind of was. A month had passed, and Sam had left things like they were before. Both his mother and Bucky, abandoned. He couldn’t exactly expect the overall experience to be any better.

"How much can change in a month?"

Steve gave him a flash look, checking his expression.

"Let's hope something has." He tried to transmit his friend some optimism.

Sam checked his phone again, taking another look at the picture his mom had sent him. It was of a panel outside the church, and it read ‘Service in memory of Minister Paul Wilson, Sunday 10am’ along with a picture of the deceased. Below the information, a message in cursive: ‘One month without his wise words.’ Sam locked his phone with a sigh.

"So..." He put the device away, gathering a bit of courage, "How's, uh... how's Barnes?"

Steve glanced at him, again, this time with a much tentative expression, for he had some hope that maybe he’d get the truth out of Sam.

"He's fine. Why?"

Sam simply looked out the window before responding, "I may or may not have been a jerk last time."

Steve nodded, hiding his joy over such a small confession.

"You guys argued or...?"

"No, nothing like that. It's- it's nothing, really."

Of course, Sam took it all back, along with Steve’s hope to be in on the gossip, and so the latter gave up on his tact. He had enough of pretending not to know, and therefore, allowed his amusement ooze out of him. He shook his head as a soft chuckle made Sam frown.

"I'm sorry." He said, although he wasn’t really sorry.

"What's so funny?" Sam became defensive.

"You two are terrible liars, I don't know how you managed to stay in the closet for so long."

The last bit hit Wilson like a frying pan in the face, and all he could do was blink fast, trying to think of whatever other thing Steve could have meant by it.

"What are you talking about?" he pledged innocence to the matter.

"Come on, I know you two had something last month.” Rogers dropped the bomb with no caution whatsoever, “Was kind of expecting it, to be honest, I just can't believe you're hiding it from me again."

Sam was perplex. He opened his mouth, only to close it back, and when the offense surpassed the shock, he raised his voice at his best friend.

"You knew?"

"That you hooked up in high school?” Steve raised his eyebrows, as if he couldn’t even believe Sam never suspected it; he couldn’t possibly think he was so naïve, “Of course I knew!"

"Are you kidding me? We went the extra mile to keep you out of it for a full year, Rogers."

That last sentence brought back the laughter to Steve’s body, "I know, talk about a waste of time and effort." He chuckled.

"Jesus. We thought you'd freak out, and... I don’t know, we were kids! It seemed like something we needed to keep from you.” Sam let his head fall and caught his forehead in his hand, defeated, “Why didn't you say anything?"

Eventually, Steve quit the mocking and gave Sam some slack.

"I didn't wanna out you guys or anything.” He confessed, tilting his head, “To be honest, I totally forgot for a few years."

Sam nodded, "I think we did too."

Steve offered a grin Sam missed because he felt more comfortable looking anywhere but towards Steve. He knew Steve was being the most empathic and considerate friend anyone could ever ask for, and it only added to his already asphyxiating guilt.

"So, you two clicked again and you bolted?" Steve took his not-so-lucky guess, and got a shameful nod out of Sam, "Now he's mad and, let me guess, he won't return your calls."

Rogers knew Bucky to be a master when it came to avoiding conflicts; he didn’t know Sam to be one, though. Which is why the fact that Sam had disappeared from town without notice had led him to jump into conclusions, because he had to have a strong enough reason. The death of his father, plus his high school crush falling back into his arms, the latter representing the overwhelming reminder that Sam never came out to the right people? Those were more than perfect reasons to bolt.

"Yeah. I... he's too good.” Sam began the self-loathing parade Steve didn’t expect to be hearing from this friend, “He shouldn't waste his time with me."

"That's definitely not how he feels about himself.” He informed Sam, thinking how the ‘unworthy speech’ sounded more like something Bucky would say; Wilson looked at him, eager for answers, “You like him?"

"Yeah.” Sam let out a painful puff of air, “Yeah, but-"

"Then show him.” Steve raised his tone into a motivational one, “Go the extra mile to let him know you're sorry, and that you care about him."

Sam agreed, but remained silent. Steve was right, and he didn’t want to give the wise man all the credit. In fact, he gave Rogers an odd look.

"You're too excited for this."

"I am." Steve admitted shamefully, but planting a big smile on his face, "Feels like high school again."

For the first time, Sam interpreted that sentence in the best possible way.

Late at night, Bucky was boringly scrolling through social media, when he received a text from Sam. Another one. This time, however, his presence felt more imminent. He figured Sam wasn’t in DC anymore, as it was the night before the service, and when he opened the text, he confirmed it.

I'm back in town, got here a few hours ago. Maybe we could meet up? I really wanna talk to you in person.

As he ignored the message and left the phone on the coffee table, making a rather loud sound for such a delicate device, Wanda was coming through the door with two paper bags.

"I got Chinese!" she announced.

"Course you did." Bucky sat back with a sigh.

Wanda dropped the packed food on the counter and approached Bucky with a challenging look.

"If that's an insult to my culinary taste, I'm not offended. But you should know you offend the Chinese community." She accused the man.

"Yeah, ‘cause that was cooked by a Chinese person." Barnes tilted his head, sarcasm thick on his voice.

"You don't know that!" she defended herself as she plopped down next to him on the couch.

She noticed the phone and noticed how unnatural the set-up seemed, which could only mean Bucky was avoiding something on the device; it wasn’t too difficult to guess, for he had been ghosting the same person for an entire month.

“Are we still ignoring him?” she asked, including herself in the decision.

Bucky pursed his lips and nodded, fixating his sight on a random spot, “He’s back in town.”

Wanda bit the inside of her cheek, pensive, before turning to his roommate.

“I have a question… Are you sure you don’t wanna give him a second chance? Or is it just your hurt pride making decisions?”

“Both.” He spat without thinking, and then decided to dignify the woman with a proper answer, “I don’t know. I just… I don’t wanna listen if all he has to say is that he doesn’t, you know…”

“In my experience, guys don’t blow up your phone when they just want to explain their lack of interest. Maybe he made a mistake, dude, maybe he wants to win you back.”

“Or maybe, he needs to tell me how much he cares before explaining why he can’t be with me.” Barnes said what he had been thinking all throughout the past weeks, “That’s Sam. I’m pretty sure he wants to make sure not to hurt my feelings and that sort of crap.”

Wanda wanted to comment on his pessimism, but she figured it was simply coming from a place of ‘I care about him too much to see him reject me’. And if that wasn’t the oddest thing she’d seen in Bucky, nothing would be.

“God, it’s weird when you’re in love.” She scrunched her nose.

“I’m not in love.” Bucky rolled his eyes before standing up from the interrogation couch.

“Where you ever?” she was quick to ask, which made Bucky stop in his tracks, “When you were kids?”

He reflected on it, but shook his head, “Nah, I don’t think so. We had fun, though.”

That answer alone helped Wanda paint the picture of the two boys, running around finding an isolated space where to hookup, before returning to their friends like nothing had happened. She imagined them laughing, and being nice to each other; Bucky, who wasn’t necessarily the nicest person alive.

“You were good friends.” She smiled, almost proud of her roommate for some reason.

“Yeah, we were.” He admitted, a smile of his own sneaking in through his features; suddenly, the realization that he owed Sam something because of all those years of friendship hit him like a truck, “Fuck, I hate you.” He groaned, heading to his room.

“What did I do?” Wanda jumped to her defense.

“Now I have to go to the service.”

Inside the church, Bucky nervously fixed his tie while he watched Sam hold hands with his mother. The woman kissed her son’s cheek before she sat down in the front row, Sam turning to check if there were anything or anyone else he needed to attend to. He had been doing the social effort he despised all morning, as if he was trying to make up for being a lousy griever during the funeral. Truth was, Sam figured he could do those extra little sacrifices if it meant his mama would remain peaceful.

When his eyes found Bucky, Samuel’s body came to a halt. Bucky, having stood in that position preparing for that moment for the past minutes, managed to greet him with a simple nod, barely. As soon as Sam moved in his direction, he began regretting even showing up. But as much as he wished to be able to run away, he forced his muscles to remain still.

"Hey.” Sam offered him a mild smile of politeness when he stood in front of Bucky, “Wanna talk?"

The appellee bit the inside of his cheek, finding himself incapable of lying to Sam.

"Not really." He admitted.

The dryness of the reply was not what Sam had been expecting. Those two words took him by surprise, but he understood where they came from, so he attempted to convince him nevertheless. He showed him an awkward smile, one that yelled embarrassment.

"That's, uh... fair. That's fair.” He indulged Bucky, “I just- I've been trying to reach you for a month, Buck. Been texting, calling-"

"I know.” Barnes didn’t need to hear the entire list of ways he had ghosted Sam, “I got them."

"I'm not asking for you to be nice or anything, I just want you to talk to me.” Sam’s tone lowered to a much more serious and confident one, “Please."

Noticing the sudden switch of approach, Bucky felt he at least owed him a chance to speak his truth. Even if all Sam had to say were excuses. So he gestured to the exit with a tilt of his head, implying for Sam to follow him. As soon as they both stood on the side of the stairs, and away from everyone else, Bucky slid his hands inside his pocket, preparing for the speech he feared he would dread.

"You can talk." He gave Sam the room to express whatever he had to express, this time with a smaller voice.

It broke a little piece inside Sam’s chest to see Bucky like that. Not just upset, but sad. He almost didn’t want to do this, because Bucky looked like he was preparing to have a bomb dropped on him. Yet he desperately needed to apologize and he desperately needed to try one more time, therefore he stood up straight, head up high, and let it all out.

"I messed up.” The words were expulsed with heaviness, making Bucky glance up at him, “Big time. I really, really like you, and...” He shrugged, failing to keep the continuous confidence, while Bucky fought back a frown that threatened to take over his features, “I don't know, it felt like we were on the same page, right?"

"But we weren't. That's why you left.” Bucky interrupted, “Still, you could've been less of a dick about it.”

"I agree."

"Which part?"

"Last part.” Sam jumped to make that point come across clearly; he definitely cared for Bucky just as much as Bucky cared for him, if not more, “Definitely last part, I- I was a dick. But I didn't mean to, and it didn't mean what you think it meant."

Finally convinced, Bucky didn’t use the gap of silence Sam offered him. He didn’t say a word, meaning he was willing to listen, which gave both of them a spark of hope. Sam seized the opportunity to spill everything out before they had to go back inside.

"You were the best thing that could've happened when I came back. You still are, Bucky. And this is probably the worst time to be doing this, but can we please meet up after the memorial? We can talk things through, you can... curse me out if you wanna. I just need the proper time to apologize. Because I really am incredibly sorry."

As the service approached its start and everyone found their seats, Darlene stopped Steve and his mother Sarah from sitting behind her.

“Oh, darling, come sit here with us.” She told the Rogers, speaking directly to her friend Sarah.

“Are you sure?” the woman asked.

“Yes, yes.” Darlene gestured quickly, then addressed the man that seemed to spare, “James, you too. Sammy should have his friends with him.”

As much as Bucky eyes Sam in search for an exit, for Sam to find an excuse, none of them seemed to have much of a choice. The three guests joined the grieving family on the front row, Sam remaining on the last end, sticking with his mother.

Not minutes after the priest started speaking, Darlene was a crying mess. Sam remembered what his old-fashioned father said about handkerchiefs and regretted not carrying one for his mother, but she had prepared for this day by bringing a box of tissues in her oversized purse, so Sam merely squeezed her hand for support. The problem was, when the priest announced they would be reading Paul’s favorite poems, and the first one just so happened to be about the relationship between a father and a son. Two verses later, Sam felt it coming. Something snapped inside of him, perhaps the fact that everyone in that church was thinking of Sam and Paul’s bond, or maybe all the crying he hadn’t done in a month hit him like a wave, but the result was simple; Sam couldn’t fight the sentiment.

The tears claimed him and he let it happen, wet face and snotty nose and all. He stopped listening to the poem and instead remembered how Paul always told him it was okay to cry, which brought Sam the much needed peace he required in that moment, because he figures the entire church was quietly pitying him. He could feel a hundred eyes burning the back of his head as he shut his eyes and a grimace invaded his features.

All of a sudden, the funniest thought crossed his mind and a smirk overtook him. Paul always told him it was okay to cry. Soon enough, that smirk became a concealed chuckle, which quickly escalated into a full-on laugh. Sam thought he might sound insane to the rest of the attendants, but he couldn’t stop thinking about the irony of it all. Eventually, Darlene inclined to check up on her seemingly crazy son.

"Sorry, it’s just… Dad always said I should express my feelings more.” Sam whispered, trying to keep the laugh in but failing, “He'd do anything to get me to open up and... show emotion.” The last few words caused a wave of chuckles to erupt on his chest, getting even more attention from everyone else, “If you told him I would do it in his church for his memorial, in front of his entire congregation...”

When Sam looked up, he saw his mother cracking up along with him, tears of joy mixing with the former tears of sadness, and with a sense of calm, Sam shook his head amusingly.

"He'd curse me out.”

Darlene sniffed before speaking with regained composure, “Paul never cursed in front of you.”

That made Sam lose it. He didn’t even know if he was snorting or laughing by now.

“I know, he said- he said he was saving it for a special time.”

As the sentence gained a similar reaction from Steve, Sarah and Bucky, mother and son noticed the entire first row could hear them perfectly. Sam’s eyes naturally travelled to find Bucky, who flaunted a big smile. Bucky always knew it would be Sam to hold the proud title of the perpetrator of a rare funeral chuckle. He never lost hope.

Sam was opening his car door, out in the parking lot behind the church, when Bucky came out of nowhere. Sam’s muscles tensed as he knew for a fact he was only there to talk, while Bucky looked around to make sure they didn’t have any public. He didn’t give Sam any time to prepare before he started rambling.

"I shouldn't have ignored you.” He spat out, more sure of himself than Sam had seen him in a while, “I should've listened, and I'm sorry.”

A sigh left Sam’s chest. He didn’t think it was Bucky who should be apologizing, but that only meant the latter had already forgiven him. Still, he felt the guilty need to step in while he leaned back on the carhood.

“Bucky, I-“

“I don’t care.” Barnes stepped closer, “As long as you forgive me too, I’m good.”

The instant Bucky finished his micro speech, he sprinted to grab Sam’s face and press his lips against him. It pushed Sam’s body slightly so that they were both pressing against the car, and although Sam was fairly shocked, he gave into the kiss completely, at the last seconds. When Bucky stepped back, waiting to see Sam’s reaction, tentatively, he was met with flushed cheeks and embarrassment.

Sam looked around, which made Bucky realize that he was expecting people, and therefore, right now they did have a public. Darlene, Steve and his mother were standing there with triumphant grins and smirks. Bucky ran a hand through his hair, quickly losing his previous confidence.

"Shit." He let out with a nervous laugh.

Sam laughed back, “It’s okay, they’re nosy people, you’re giving them a show.” He directed the insult to the three spectators.

“Do you guys need a minute?” Steve stepped in.

Sam nodded. “Yes, a minute would be nice.”

Sam was finishing writing in his journal, when the doorbell rang.

Bucky had suggested the idea of a journal, for Sam to write down his feelings of grief, and it definitely was helping with the young man’s epiphanies. Today’s page began with a mention of how easy it had been to adapt to his hometown the past few weeks. Sam wrote about his mother, and how she didn’t let her grief take her down, but actually played the widow part like a champ. He also wrote about Bucky, and how patient he was with Sam’s feelings, and how he himself was ready to hold Bucky’s hand in public. The page ended in a meaningful paragraph:

I haven’t felt like I deserved to mourn him, because I kept focusing about everything I didn’t get to do with him. I wish I’d had the courage, because Paul Wilson always taught me to be brave, and I just feel like I let him down. But then mama, the person who knew him better than he knew himself, reminded me of something: he was the single most empathic person in the world, and he never judged a person who came to him. He would have welcomed me with any problem or confession, and that’s what I want to remember. His memory, to me, is one of a kind man who was always there for me, even if I didn’t seek his help.

“Sammy, the Barnes boy’s here for you!” Darlene called up.

Sam walked down the stairs and rolled his eyes when he was sure his mother could see him.

“We’re not fifteen, mama.” He mocked her choice of words.

Bucky, on his part, was standing on the doorstep with a frown, “Was I supposed to bring flowers?”

“Only if you wanna stay for dinner.” Sam warned him while putting on a coat.

“I do want to stay for dinner.” Bucky said just to mess with Sam, but gave Darlene a look that meant he was serious, “Thank you, ma’am.”

“Anytime, love.” She gave him a graceful nod.

“We’re leaving.” Sam groaned before shutting the door behind him.

Bucky gave him a peck on his temple before they started walking down the street. It would be a short walk to the coffee shop, but it gave Sam enough time to hold Bucky’s hand. With some real courage and gathered enthusiasm, Sam found Bucky’s gloved hand. He sloppily reached for his fingers, and received some help from Bucky, who looked down with a smile when their hands were completely intertwined.

They fell into comfortable silence, until Sam remembered a topic of conversation they had left behind.

“What did Wanda say about the charity work?” he asked like he’d forgotten something important, “Is she in?”

Bucky’s roommate had agreed to help the Wilsons with some church work Sam had taken over, including donation events and organization. The young woman had already made a bunch of jokes about not being able to step foot in a Christian church.

“Yeah, she said she could betray her Jewish ancestors for a few days.” Bucky replied, raising his eyebrows at the memory of her dramatization, “Said if I’d done it, so could she.”

“Yeah, but you went there to score a real handsome guy.” Sam joked.

Bucky smiled and stopped in order to find Sam’s face and cup it, “And what could be more godly than that?”

The couple joined in a kiss, there in the middle of the street, and although it wasn’t a very populated one, it proved their willingness to step into the spotlight. They didn’t want to be a secret anymore. When they broke the kiss, Sam gave Bucky’s hand a little squeeze, and they continued walking.

“I’m happy, Bucky.” Sam confessed out of the blue.

It brought a confused smile to Bucky’s face, “Well, I’m glad.” He said, unsure.

“No, I mean I’m happy here. I’m not going back to DC.” He announced with such tranquility, it made Bucky’s gut do a full twist, “That job you mentioned downtown? I’m taking it.”

Bucky’s heart warmed to the idea, because he would have followed Sam to DC if he had asked him, but instead, Sam decided to stay, and there was something very beautiful about that choice.

“You’re gonna have to stay with your mom.” Bucky reminded him of the downside, like he wasn’t as thrilled as anyone could ever be.

“Yeah, for a while.” Sam shrugged, “She’s partly the reason I want to stay, you know.”

Bucky nodded, keeping a big happy grin concealed.

“What’s the other reason?”

“Just this guy.” He followed along.

“Really, what’s he like?”

“Kinda cute. He betrayed his ancestors for me a bunch of times.”

“Shut up.” Bucky rolled his eyes as he reached for Sam’s sweater and pulled him in for a kiss.

For a long time, Sam had avoided his hometown. He had avoided the people from his childhood, he had avoided his relationship with his parents, and so much more that now seemed indispensable. Not only had he found Bucky, but he felt like he was finally where he belonged. He felt like Bucky was the only person who knew him entirely growing up, and somehow, they both needed each other to be reminded of themselves.

Holding Bucky’s hand, walking down his childhood street where they both would sneak through at night during their teenage years, he felt home. And he planned on keeping that feeling for a long, long time.

#sambucky #sambucky au #sam wilson x bucky barnes #sam/bucky #marvel fanfiction #sambucky fluff #sam wilson/bucky barnes #angst #tfatws #fatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #tftws #tw: grief #tw: gay closet

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writinglionqueen · 5 years

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My King | Pledge

After your sword fight with your king, after a night filled with him holding you, making it feel like everything was good again, once more, after your tears had subsided and he sang to you, everything fell into a lull.

Like...a silence, thick as stone fell between the two of you...like a wall...but not as quite separating as it once had. He treaded carefully about you, as if anything would set you off. And you....you for once didn’t understand where the two of you stood.

But, you’d allowed him into bed, allowed him to wrap his arms around you, allowed him to hold you and love you before he had punished you. Not as though it had never occurred, however.

It had happened. It had caused a rift between you and him. It had scared you, because, for once, he had hurt you, raised a hand to you. A promise broken.

He must’ve realized that. For he had changed from your threat.

He acted like the Drew you first met. The Drew who held you tenderly. The Drew who made sure you never seen him angry or downright brutish. The Drew who held you as if you’d break.

But you had been broken.

But it was by his doing and he knew that. He had that guilt in his eyes ever since you held the dirk against his throat and told him how you’d kill him if he ever did it again. He knew he had screwed up...and he had screwed up big time.

He’s done a lot to make it up to you. He had the servants bring breakfast to bed, full of your favorites as the two of you ate together. Even in a tight silence. He told the council to not bother him for he was going to spend the day with you. He walked with you to the library and you allowed him to hold you as you read silently to yourself. Lunch was silent as well as the time before and after dinner.

It wasn’t....uncomfortable silence, though....not really.

However, the silence was deafening. You didn’t like it. But you could tell he didn’t like it either. You didn’t know how to fix it. You didn’t know how to break down the rest of the wall that stood between the two of you. You didn’t know what you needed to accomplish for that wall to be completely demolished.

So you kept quiet, even as you got yourself ready for bed, getting out of your dress piece by piece. You could feel Drew’s eyes on you, though, every step of the way, even as you made your way to your bed, sitting upon the edge to wait and see what your king would do.

Drew said nothing as he strode to your side. Your eyes watched his every step, you watch his calm, solemn expression keep to his features as he knelt before you. You watched in surprised as he took his dirk from its sheath and presented it.

You were...confused to what he was doing until he pressed the pommel to his forehead, bowing his head...like he did when he took his oath as king.

“I, Drew McLean Galloway McIntyre IV, king of Scotland and all her people, here swear upon this holy iron in my hand to give my queen fealty and pledge my loyalty,” he said with confidence, he said with certainty as he turned the blade so the tip was pointed towards his heart and it’s handle was presented towards you. His grey eyes were lit with the flames of the hearth and of his passion that you could feel, dripping from his words. “My queen, if I ever raise my hand against you again, then all I ask of you is to take this iron and pierce my heart with it.” He bowed his head again, waiting for you to take the dirk from him....to say something...anything.

You could only look between your king and the dirk.

You did understand what he was doing. You understood at what length his actions had caused him to kneel before you....showing you he was sorry....begging to be ended if he were to ever smite you again. You knew what this meant...he was deeply sorry and he was demonstrating it to you...the length he would go to tell you...to show you how sorry he truly was.

But you remained silent. Even as you watched him look to you, uncertainty dimming the fire in his eyes.

“My queen,” he murmured. “Is....is this not enough? Can you....can you not see how...sorry...how hurt I am for doing what I did?” You kept quiet as you contemplated his actions....you contemplated what he’s shown you of his true nature, his “duty” it is to be your king, your husband.

Was this not enough to show you that he meant every word? That he would end his life if he dare hurt you again?

You knew he meant it. Every word. You’ve found, with time, Drew was one to say what he meant...do as he set out to do. Your king was always straight forward, but always allowing actions to speak louder than his words. It would take some future convincing on your part....but....deep down, you forgave him the moment he looked sorry the yesterday in the training field. You forgave him when he pledged himself to you just now...you forgave him even as his dirk was sheath once more.

“My queen...do you still want me?” he asked. The pain in his voice, in his words, was enough to break you. You’ve never heard him hurt like this. You’ve never seen him so hurt...so vulnerable, so pained emotionally like this...ever. It was new. But it was him and it was real. He was sorry and he meant it.

“What you did...hurt me worse than any pain I’ve ever felt,” you said quietly. “I should....should hate you for what you did. That I should fester in that hate....but I don’t want to.” You leaned forward, pressing one hand to his chest, right over his heart while the other one cupped his face. Drew gripped the hand that felt his heart beating steadily. His eyes held his pain, unshed sadness that you wish he would release. “I love you Drew...from....from the moment you handed me that circlet you made...to our ceremony...to....making love to me after...then here; making this place feel like home. I no longer have the feeling of...longing for my old keep...you’re my home here, Drew.” The last part you whispered, afraid to cry once again for your pain. But, this time, it wasn’t by Drew’s doing.

Instead....it felt like a weight was lifted from your shoulders, out of your bones and lungs and you could breath again, knowing Drew understand how much being hurt by him was worse than anything you’ve ever felt.

Your king clenched his eyes shut, knowing how deep the pain he caused ran...but knowing you were willing to forgive him.

“And you’re mine,” he whispered back. “Without you...I don’t know what I’d do if....if I lost you as well, my queen.” You closed your eyes at that, pressing your forehead to his, feeling his shuddering breath mingle with your own.

The pain was seeping out from the both of you, slowly but surely. It wouldn’t be gone...erased from memory easily. It was going to remain there as if etched in stone...all the two of you needed to do was move past this. Learn from it. The past can’t change but the future was still uncertain. The two of you know now what it takes to not hurt the other....that his pledge was still there....and your promise lingered in each other’ minds.

It would definitely be discussed, revised, in a way to benefit the both of you. A compromise needed to be struck in order for the two of you to be happy, to not let this terrible scar in time haunt you two.

And as you thought of it, Drew knew it as well. It was unspoken as your eyes opened to see his storm and fire and passion there, ready to take on your might and power and love...allowing each other’s strength, each other’s weaknesses to engulf the other as you embraced in his strong arms that felt like home and you kissed him deeply with your love as he took you to bed that night.

The two of you made slow and sweet love that you felt in every fiber of your being, down to your core...you even thought you could feel it in your soul. Something so deep and meaningful like his pledge. It made you weep to feel again.

Drew let you, asking if he was alright, to continue and you told him not to stop, to keep on loving you and holding you and embracing you and he did, with everything he had.

And, after, he held you in his arms again, whispering sweet nothings and promises you knew he would try and keep now, as he stroked down your body, still on its euphoric high. You cuddled into him, feeling his heart beating fast and for you with his own love that tried to escape his chest.

For once you feel asleep with a heavenly smile on your face, knowing the two of you would overcome this scratch in time, take on his pledge if you see fit, for you are his queen and he was your king.

The two of you had pledged that already; to love each other, to take care of each other, to take on each other....

Till your lives shall be done.

And it wasn’t over yet.

~End~

(please know that the pledge Drew gives is the fealty pledge [I don’t know how fealty pledges are worded] from Outlander and his question of being wanted comes from the show as well. Everything else is my idea)

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#drew mcintyre #drew mcintyre x reader #such mass #my king #my king series

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lucentshadow · 4 years

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Favourite stories

Or more like stories i still think about even thought it was years since i read/watched them. I made this list to kind of make myself think what i actually like about them. If you have any recommendations based on this list feel free to let me know. Here is just a list, more under the cut.

Psycho Pass

The Bartimaeus trilogy

Les Miserables

Brave new world

Démon súhlasu

Powers

Books by Jane Austen

Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron

Megamind

Martin Eden

My youth romantic comedy is wrong as I expected

Disclaimer: I just want to point out some stuff i personally liked about these stories. This is by no means a complete assessment of them, i know there’s more in them then i absorbed the last time i watched or read them.

Psycho Pass

In Japan Sibyl system judges people based on their crime coefficient – the likelyhood of them commiting a crime and being dangerous to other people. Those with high crime coeficient but no criminal history are called latent criminals and they are taken away from society and put into rehabilitation centers, which mostly means they’ll never get back out. Some latent criminals can under strict conditions leave the center and help in police investigation as Enforcers – hunting dogs for Inspectors.

There’s a lot i like about this series. The setting is interesting, the villain has kind of an interesting point, and then there are characters. Characters in this series are in my opinion not examined and developed as they could be, except for a few. That being said, Ginoza Nobuchika is one of my all time favourite characters. As an inspector, he wants to do what‘s right and believes Sibyl is the only right way to do that. So he strictly keeps in line, even tries to despise people closest to him who became enforcers, because if Sibyl is right, then they were in the wrong . Stuff happens of course and whole his character development is wonderful, but i won’t spoil anything more. And then there’s Akane. A role model. I love how Akane can think about crimes without ever affecting her crime coefficient (which is something that sent a few people to the enforfcers camp) and that’s because in the end her ultimate motive is to protect people and the law.

The Bartimaeus trilogy by Jonathan Stroud

The government of Britain consists of magicians – caste of people with knowledge to summon and control demons, who then have to obey them. With their powers, magicians control the rest of the population, keeping them away from education and true source of their power. We follow three main characters – Nathaniel „John Mandrake“, sold by his parents to become a magician and to believe magicians are what keeps the country safe, working his way up the power ladder to become part of the British government, djinni Bartimaeus, summoned by Nathaniel, and determined to make Nathaniels life as miserable and troublesome as he can while he is forced to obey him, and Kitty Jones, a commoner, determined to tear down magicians rule.

If you ever thought that it was unrealistic how wizards in Harry Potter decided to hide from Muggles instead of taking control over the world, than i present you with Bartimaeus, where privileged caste of magicians controls commoners by power gained by exploitation of demons.

Les Miserables by Victor Hugo

So, i only watched two movies and read about 250 pages from the book, but let me tell you, Jean Valjean is one my favourite characters ever. I love what kind of a person he becomes even after everything he’s been through. I still have to read the whole book, though.

Brave new world by Aldous Huxley

People are born in the factory, they are conditioned to enjoy their life in a prescribed way, to fulfil every pleasure, to eradicate every negative feeling by drugs, and then to die and be recycled. People are conditioned to like the way they will lead their lives. So what is a meaning of life then? Is the meaning of life to find happiness? To be entertained? What if we get that and we are always etertained, we are always happy. What then? And what do we need to sacrifice to get that?

Démon súhlasu („Demon of consensus“ or „Demon of agreement“) by Dominik Tatarka

Written in 1963 in communistic Czechoslovakia, this short story talks about a difference between a public and private consensus and how there is a discord between these two when a person becomes a pawn. I don‘t think there is an english translation of this book, but thanks to the style of the writing I’m afraid about a half of the quality would be lost in translation anyway. But here is my rough translation of a short quote i like:

A pawn is a man, who in the name of his conviction agrees to be promoted to a position, for which he‘s not enough. A pawn is a role that a man plays, only plays, terribly plays. A pawn is a role, in which a man plays, that nothing is his fault, that over there higher up are the officials, who instead of him think, speak, plan, for him they decide, for him they take responsibility.

A pawn used to believe in his conviction, now he doesn‘t even believe.

A pawn can this way think,to be a righteous man, who got of the path only because of a general change.

A pawn is a beast, a pawn is a dangerous man, class enemy.

Powers by Ursula K. Le Guin

Main character grows up as a slave, but for a long time he doesn‘t see it as something that wrong, he doesn‘t rebel, and he even kind of advocates for it being that way. Family who owns him gives him education and he‘s growing up with children of the Family, playing games as if they were on the same side. There is a particular part of this story i think about from time to time. After stuff happens, he looses interest in the world and he‘s not in his actions, none of what he‘s doing has any meaning for him, everything he does is automatic and he let‘s the world decide his next course in life. And i can feel that.

Books by Jane Austen

I remember i read Pride and prejudice in the first year of high school when i started reading classics. To be honest, i did not really understand it, just some kind of story about love i guess. I picked it up a few years later and found a witty ironic narrator talking about a women from a social class, who can‘t work because they don’t have to and that way work is considered beneath them, and any exertion is considered unnecessary attention-seeking and is looked down upon. If there’s not much to inherit and you can‘t live of your work, the only way to secure a living is to get married well.

Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron

Okay, so, the main character is a horse. And he‘s the strongest willed horse alive. This story is basically the world trying to break him, and i have to tell you, i love seeing him disapoint . There is no need for a character development, Spirit is already perfect at the beginning, he knows his place in the world, cares about his herd and all he wants is to be with them and to be free. To be honest, the animals not talking is a great choice here. There‘s a line from one of the songs that i remember from time to time: If you loose yourself, your courage soon will follow. So be strong tonight, remember who you are.

Megamind

Megamind‘s whole life was dedicated to defeating Metroman and to rule Metrocity, altough because of Metroman mostly he just end’s up in jail. But finally one day (thanks to an accident) he beats the superhero and becomes the most powerful person in the city. That‘s about ten minutes in the movie. However, as days go by he comes to the conclusion that his life without Metroman, his nemesis, lacks meaning. So he devises a plan to create himself a new superhero to fight. Superhero burnout, how our surroundings influence if we become good or evil, power not corrupting people just giving them a way to show who they‘ve always been, and more.

Martin Eden by Jack London

Poor sailor saves a life of a man from higher society. When he meets the man‘s sister, he falls in love with her and starts educating himself to get to her level. And so the story of hypocrisy, shallowness and social injustice begins. As much as i’m still frustrated about the ending, the story itself still comes to my mind from time to time, but i have to reread it someday because i read it only once and it was a very long time ago, so i know there was a ton of themes and content that flew over my head at that time.

My youth romantic comedy is wrong as i expected by Wataru Watari

This has a certain similarities to Catcher in the rye, mostly in style. Main character Hachiman Hikigaya is an unpopular high scholler without friends but with massive defence mechanisms to help him deal with his life. Great inner monologues.

Honorable mentions: Gattaca, Interstellar, Dark knight, Truman show, Brothers Karamazov, Coco, Brother bear, Matrix, Hamlet, Mucha do about nothing, Aoharu x kikanjuu(no seriously, this is hilarious), King of Attolia, Epos of Gilgamesh, Into the wild, Back to the future, stories by Božena Slančíková Timrava, Mulan, Fate/Zero

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hecohansen31 · 5 years

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Little Love Notes

Outpost! Michael + Reader

A/N: Hello, there lovelies!

Just wanted to thank y’all for being awesome and the nicest to me lately, I know that sadly I am a bit “emotionally constipated”, but I really appreciate y’all, you are the most precious thing ever and I appreciate your love and feedback, so as always... LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

Mostly because I am extremely inexperinced in the “smut aerea” so, please let me know what you think about it: if you think it sucks or it doesn’t, or anything else... please, it will help me be better for the newest ideas and drabbles I have in mind!

And after this, I hope that you will enjoy it, so I will leave you to reading!

SUMMARY: You have grown accostumed to leaving little cute notes on your boss’ desk, and this got you fired, as soon as Mr Langdon discovered the identity of his secret admirer... but appreantly it does’t end here...

WORDS: 4,5 K

WARNINGS: Rough (Unprotected: guys... please don’t do it withouth a condom, it does not only protect from unwanted pregnancies, but also it is against STDs) Sex (with things such as spanking and a lot of rough handling), Oral Sec (Female Receiving), Semi-Public Sex (Reader is on the phone at a certain point). “Sir” Kink, but generally BDSM relationship going on!

She was Mr Langdon’s favorite at the office, since you were neat, clean and completely scared of him.

Enough, not only to be extremely polite with him, but also she was extremely formal in every approach to the point that her friend, Gallant, joked that she would one day bow down to him, as a way to salute him, since once she had accidentally saluted him, in the old military way.

But she had done one thing which would have been considered highly unprofessional if Langdon ever found out: she had sent him little love notes.

They hadn’t meant to be love notes, she had just thought he needed something that would comfort him, after the loss of his foster mother, Mrs Mead, which had taken a terrible toll on him since not only he had been not as evil as he usually was to everyone but he had taken a work leave.

As one of the few people he trusted she had felt the need to cheer him up a little, and since she couldn’t do nothing face-to-face with him (he had almost fired Coco when she had given him her condolences) she had left a few sweet and encouraging notes, not the type you found in self-help books, but the one that might have been useful, because she felt them deeply.

She had been sure he would have either dismissed it as a silly joke or thrown it in the bin, but instead he had left a similar note on his desk (which she had found when she had gone to drop another one) with a “thank you” and a “😊” near it, which had actually shocked her, but she had been happy that he somehow had appreciated her note and that it had helped him.

She had started leaving more notes, always being careful, making sure nobody recognized her, meanwhile she dropped the notes off, usually doing it during the lunch break, and strangely she had always gotten responses from Mr Langdon, who had been growing more cheeky the more they shared notes.

This prompted her to feel more and more confident in herself and it was just a question of time before she made a mistake.

Which she did after two months of successfully avoiding getting caught, with a rookie mistake.

All the notes had been handwritten since Langdon didn’t know her handwriting (she wrote everything with her computer), but the she had had to write down Gallant’s “happy birthday” note, passing it even to her boss (Langdon had actually sweetened after her notes) and she hadn’t realized that it showcased perfectly her elegant handwriting.

She had just gone home and thought about the new note to write him.

The following day, she had realized the mistake, but only when he had shown her the “birthday note” and “her notes”, after he had called her in his office.

She had almost fainted, not helped by the fact that Langdon stared at her as if he had wanted to burn holes through her body.

-I can explain…- she had just mumbled, blabbing a bit and looking at him as if asking for pity, which he wouldn’t give, because his eyes were again on the notes, the handwriting in common, they were so disinterested that she should have predicted what had come next.

-You don’t need to, Mrs (L/N)- and she almost breathed out a long, relieved breath -… you are fired-.

She had wanted to protest but it was as if her windpipe had been clogged and she couldn’t emit any kind of noise and she still couldn’t talk, although tears streamed down her face and Gallant immediately asked what was wrong, if he could do anything for her, but she just shook her head and she had basically run away from the building.

At home it hadn’t felt better.

She had started thinking about how not only she was unemployed but she had been fired, which would make it extremely hard for her to get another job after what had happened.

Even more if Langdon decided to make her life a living hell and share the news that she didn’t understand the professional boundaries.

What she didn’t know was that a month after she would be in a new and cooler job.

And the funniest thing, which she didn’t understand at all, was the fact that her newest boss didn’t know about her being fired, since Langdon had actually been the one who suggested and wrote a recommendation note about her to her new boss.

When she had been asked why she chose to change the job she hadn’t known what to do, except blatantly lie her way through the rest of the interview.

And she tried to forget about the entire note thing, till Gallant proposed a dinner with her ex-colleagues, and to kill two bird with one stone she also proposed to go to her ex-office and collect the few things she had left behind.

She knew that Gallant would have gladly done it for her, but she wanted to have some kind of closure.

And maybe met with Langdon.

He scared her less now that she didn’t answer to him and she was actually curious to know why he had recommended her.

But when she felt him walking in on her arranging her things in a paper box, swiftly and even more swiftly feeling his intoxicating perfume coming from behind her...

She had turned around only after he coughed to make his presence known, doing it slowly and controlling her moves in order for her to turn around again if he glared at her, but he just looked surprised.

He didn’t expect her, there.

-I am just getting my last things, Gallant told me I had your permission…- she started blabbing, but he stopped at her, smiling meekly, which surprised her, since it seemed genuine for the first time in for ever.

-… I know about it, actually… Gallant has told me…- but he wasn’t expecting her to show up right to his face, and she didn’t know if he was still angry for the notes or he was just surprised -… we need to talk-.

They did indeed, but she wasn’t feeling in the mood, all her curiosity had gone to waste for her anxiety.

-I actually have a dinner in thirty minutes, and Gallant is waiting for me…- which was true, but she was sure that she could have made time for Langdon, she always made it possible for him to have a little bit of her time, no matter what she was doing, no matter how she felt, because she cared for him and was scared of him like he was the freaking devil.

But now, that she didn’t have to endure his government of terror and torture, she felt free to deny him any kind of request he had, even more since he acted like a dick about what had happened with the notes.

It might have been highly unprofessional, but she didn’t think it was worth being fired, mostly when he appreciated the notes.

She was thinking this and turning around to her box, when he pulled out his hand, to latch it with hers, squeezing her in a position nearer to him, getting her to almost screech out at the sudden move, but luckily she kept the scream inside at last, just glaring down at the entire manhandling which had been going on.

-Please, let my arm go- she mumbled, asking without any intention to wait for his answer, tugging on it immediately and the grip didn’t loosen.

-It’ll take just five minutes of your time and I will give you some answer I know you are looking for- he proposed to her, meanwhile loosening his grip, but it was still too firm for her to get away from it, so she just huffed out a breath and nodded.

-And you are going to leave my wrist in peace- she also added, making him smirk, before immediately leaving her wrist, nodding at her command.

But he kept himself close to her, almost making her breath the same air that came out of his luscious lips (she hadn’t thought about those lips, when he had talked to her… nooo…).

-I just wanted to start with saying I am sorry for firing you, it was one of the worst working choice I have ever made-.

And her eyes widened enough that he seemed to understand her disbelief and added an “I am serious”.

-… oh… ehm… my notes were extremely unprofessional- she honestly didn’t think it, but she felt like if she told him the truth, this miracle would disappear.

Because not only he hadn’t apologized to anybody, in the time she had worked for him, but he also didn’t feel regret for treating his employees badly, so either he had gone straight up crazy or he had genuinely developed regret, in her absence.

-I found them extremely cute…- his voice again told the truth, and again she was left surprised by what he had said in the span of two minutes -… and I overreacted, thinking it might have been some kind of twisted way to make fun of me… “oh look at the boss being all cute and everything…”, but I knew you better than that and I should have thought you were jus trying to be a nice person-.

Which she wasn’t, but the fact that he had actually said it, made her gain an immediate shot of confidence.

-… I haven’t had many genuine people around, if I can say the truth, so maybe I might have not thought about the fact that you just wanted to comfort me, for which I am very thankful-.

She swore she was either hallucinating or five minutes from fainting.

-It isn’t so bad…- she managed to spit out -… all is forgiven, Mr Langdon-.

-It’s Michael, since we are not colleague anymore- and then he was again too closer, but this time he didn’t retreat and he growled the following words right into her mouth -… and let me tell you I am very happy we aren’t, so I can do this-.

And he kissed her.

He kissed her, holding her tight under him, an hand behind her back and one behind her neck, holding her close and gently dipping her down, meanwhile his lips traced hers gently, asking for permission with his tongue to enter her in a much more chaste way than the one that her core suddenly craved, since it had opened for him from the moment he had firstly grabbed her.

And this is what got her to open her eyes and throw him away, off of herself, trying to realize when she had actually closed.

Immediately her back hit her old desk and she mumbled a pained moan, meanwhile he was thrown just a few centimeters away, but he looked much more shocked by her rejection than actually the fact that she had managed to move him away, touching the place where she had pushed and just looking at her as if it was the first time it had happened.

Which was not that hard to believe.

Since he was so dreamy and damnably attractive with his elegant posture and his perfect fashion sense.

And she was pretty sure that she wouldn’t have resisted him either, if he had a gently explained his crush for her and not been an emotionally constipated asshole.

-… so after three years of me working for you, you fired me to have a chance to kiss me? – she didn’t want to sound that smug, but she just got her boss to admit not only he was sorry, but that he somehow liked a lowly nobody like her, because it wasn’t just a trying kiss… from the way he seemed greatly affected by it, it might have been a “kiss which had finally happened”.

-Not just for a kiss- he matched her teasing tone, although his azure eyes didn’t dare to meet her -… and I somehow got you back on your feet didn’t I? -.

Which he did, since this meant that he had actually made her new boss hire her, alongside hiding the fact that he had fired her.

-… maybe...- she left her thoughts pending on whether to drag this out with teasing or jump into his arms, before turning around to get the box in her hands, wanting to leave him hanging there dry and unhappy, exactly how she had felt at his rude words -… and now if you excuse me, I have a dinner to attend-

And she made exactly two steps before he corned her between the desk and his body, pushing himself into her, and she was extremely thankful that she had actually worn a skirt, so he just had to push it up and pull down her stockings and panties all together, leaving her naked for the air and his hands.

Her box fell down and she was pretty sure that her treasured shell-box had been destroyed but she honestly didn’t care, when Langdon’s… Michael’s body was pressed right into her, making her feel every inch of the manhood her previous colleagues gossiped about… and it was so much more than they would expect .

-Don’t even think about it- he mumbled into her ear, meanwhile his hands spread her thighs apart, caressing them gently, before slapping one harshly at her useless try to resist his order -… I finally got you where I wanted you so… let me at least explain-.

-First, you try to bribe me with work offers and now you try with your dick, oh I am so glad I got fired! – she mumbled, and he slammed her decidedly unkindly on her desk, grabbing an hold of her hair, clearly telling her to shut up.

-I liked you more when you were a scared little mouse, following all my orders- he mumbled, meanwhile his fingers caressed her outer lips, the one down there, meanwhile her others were smeared with blood, since she had cut them with her teeth during his push -Can’t you go back to that, Mrs (L/N)? –.

He was a kinky bastard as he was rumored to be, she shouldn’t have been surprised, really…

But she just nodded at his request, not daring to turn around, meanwhile he caressed her, pushing himself more internally, still teasing her, but also making sure she knew where this would be going, meanwhile his lips laid kisses on her exposed neck and his free hand, fooled around with her shirt, groping her over it.

-… I need words, Mrs (L/N)- and right now when she felt the words coming at her, he remembered her something else -… and call me, sir, lovely-.

And he slapped her core, getting an even higher pitched scream and she was thankful that she had actually saw the cleaning lady get out when she walked in, she had in fact left her keys for her to close everything, because the noises were so loud and definitely explicit.

-… yes, sir- she mumbled, trying not to think of the pain she felt in her head and the pleasure she instead felt in her nether regions.

-Yes, sir… what? Speak up, Mrs (L/N)…- she felt the smirk forming on her neck before the new slap at her cunt -…you were always so good with words-.

-I will follow your orders, Sir- she repeated slowly, feeling deep waves of pleasure crash into her as Michael slipped a finger in her core after her confession, laying a mark on her, as if to say he say he owned her, inside and out.

-Better- he mumbled, meanwhile his finger slipped out of her and went back inside, but his head retreated from her shoulder, its warmth leaving her, and she tried to turn around, but he kept her hips linked to the table with a tight grip -… don’t turn around, sweetie, I am just going to give you a surprise reward-.

And she didn’t understand what he meant till she felt something even more wet than her folds and rough on her hole, caressing it, without dipping inside, till she let out her first moan, again loudly, finally getting him to intensify the entire thing with probing inside her with his tongue, meanwhile his fingers caressed the sensitive bundle of nerves.

She gripped extremely tightly the edges of the desk, pushing down a few papers, meanwhile she felt herself go through what could only be described as a mystical experience.

She felt the tell-tale first in her stomach tighten and relax and tighten again and…

-Michael! – she protested as he slipped out of her, pushing himself away just to come closer and slap her ass, enough that it freed her of any even feelings of her impeding climax, making her cry out at her own mistake, this time a “sir” escaping her lips.

-Much better, sweetheart, but I would much rather know if you feel as heavenly, as you taste- and he ripped himself off of her, just enough time for him to lower his pants and get his manhood out, making her taste it, just pressing it against her opening, gently caressing her with it, meanwhile he pulled her hair to get her to crane her neck back at him to give her a messy kiss on the lips, making her taste herself.

And he entered her.

She let out a huge huff, feeling him smirk against her, and before she could reprimand him for the low blow he started moving.

Fast enough that she totally missed her grip on the desk, being just pushed against it, without no control on the movement, just being thrown against as a doll, and the fact that she enjoyed it was a bit strange, but she honestly didn’t care, not when Michael hit her perfectly with each movement of hips, meanwhile he smeared saliva on her neck, trying to bite her and when he did, she let out a moan which barely covered the drill of her phone, adverting her that somebody was calling her.

They both stilled, almost as if they had been caught, letting the drill replace the luxurious sound of flesh slapping on flesh.

Her phone was on her bag, next to her, and all she had to was bend down and get it.

It would have been an easy thing…

… without a cock in your cunt…

She looked back at Michael, who seemed almost as taken aback as her, but swiftly smirked at her, devilishly, meanwhile he exited her and made a gesture which meant she better get the call.

She just rolled her eyes, annoyed by what the hell he was plotting and also for the fact that she was feeling extremely empty.

It was Gallant and as she got a good look at her screen through teary eyes, she understood why: she had said it would take her five minutes to collect her things and she had been with Michael for twenty minutes straight, but worst of all as she made to answer Gallant, Michael’s re-entered her, making her moan straight in the phone.

She honestly was traumatized of what Gallant might think.

-Don’t give us out, sweetheart- mumbled Michael in her ear, before gently kissing it, and keeping up a fast-paced pace, thrusting her against the desk and if the moaning hadn’t given her out, the thrust of her skin against metal would absolutely reveal she was fucking her ex-boss.

-… (Y/N)? – asked Gallant, he seemed confused but he gave her the chance to explain it with her words -… what’s taking you so long? -.

“Michael being an asshole and not letting me cum” but she refused to say it to her best friend and ex-colleague, who still worked with Michael, not wanting to put that image in his head, alongside spread rumor about being fired just so that her boss could fuck her.

-Oh… I just caught Mr Langdon and we ended up talking…- she knew that in between saying this entire phrase her voice had broken down and raised up at least five times, enough that one might ask if she had developed a cough -… I am sorry, I will be down in five minutes-.

Because again she felt a tightness in her stomach and this time she hoped Michael wouldn’t pull any kind of stunt.

-Oh, perfect- Gallant’s voice wasn’t as giggly as it was before the mention of Langdon, maybe he was worried that he had again made her cry, but she was just thankful she could end that embarrassing conversation and stop biting her lip to keep any sinful sounds in -…but what were those noises? -.

She rolled her eyes more out of annoyance than pleasure, although what was going in her nether regions was indeed very pleasurable, since Michael had started caressing her pleasure pearl, which was perfect erect in his grasp.

-… I just knocked something accidentally to get the phone, you know… silly me- she mumbled, meanwhile Michael slapped her ass, making her yelp and she turned around to glare at him, meanwhile she held the phone so tight in her hand that she was sure by the end of this she would need a new one.

She whispered to him, about either quitting or just getting over with it.

Big mistake…

He bend her even more over on the table and she was now crunched painfully completely with the desk hitting her stomach, but the pain didn’t matter when she felt him hit a spot which had never been hit either by her finger and any other man, none that there had been some as experienced as him, who seemed to know her body more than her.

-Don’t tell me what to do- this time there was no pet name and she accidentally let the phone tumble down, unable to oeld it.

But at least this got her to only focus on her pleasure, building slowly and this time she knew what she had to do before anything else happened.

-Please, sir, let me cum- she whispered it and she thought he hadn’t heard her till he just laughed sarcastically at her plead.

-Maybe if I can hear you, I will let you cum-.

-PL…Ease… Sir… Let ME… CUM! – she tried again, gaining all the breathing she owned and feeling her lungs burn because of the strain, but by the way the caresses on her clit turned into harsh and quick slaps she knew that she had done well, enough to hear an animalistic growl:

-Then do it-.

And sweetly she felt her legs give out under the utter pressure of pleasure, moving liquidly from her stomach to her core and there, it became butterflies of true pleasure between her legs and she …

… she blacked out for a minute, still shocked by the intensity of what was going through her.

She just felt two arms steadying her from behind to avoid her falling without elegance on the desk, meanwhile he exited her, getting a moan of annoyance from her, but he made it all up by actually caressing her thighs gently, without no intention to arouse her (not that he would need it), but to relax her sore muscles, meanwhile his other hand searched for something on her desk.

She didn’t understand what it was till she felt him try to clean her down there with a tissue, collecting their mixed releases, the proof that she hadn’t be the only one to enjoy it and she was secretly thankful for being on the pill, and hoped that Michael was as clean-polished inside as he was outside…

He had gone back to his boss persona, although a blush coated his cheeks (she didn’t understand if it was from the physical activity or anything else), when she turned around to lean her sore back against the deck, searching for some relief, meanwhile he distanced himself a bit to let her oversensitive skin breath, but keeping up what he was doing with the hand cleaning her, till he was satisfied and gently slipped her panties back on, meanwhile helping her tuck the shirt in her skirt.

He had a gentleness to him that she hadn’t expect, but she appreciated it still.

And was particularly starstruck when he kissed her gently on the lips, caressing her almost lovingly and reverently and when they broke apart he looked at her as if it hurt to distance himself from her:

-Don’t you have a dinner to wander off with? – he mumbled at her, looking down at his polished shoes, but she gripped his face, making him look up at her; was he seriously being all shy after he had taken her like a whore.?

-After that stunt I don’t think I can stay still on my legs- and she caressed his cheek much more to adapt herself to the fact that it was all real, that it had all happened.

-I am pretty sure that all you have to do at a dinner is stay sit- he mumbled, using again his teasing tone, but with no fire to it, just kindness and willingness to make her laugh, meanwhile he caressed her aching back, all because of him.

-… I don’t think I can do also that- she replied, already feeling the burn of his previous slaps and the way he had roughly abused her poor back, now that all the pleasure had subsided -… I am probably going back home and get a good bath-.

He nodded and turned around, to let her do that, but she just gripped his jacket and kept him there.

-… and after all I have just gone through, I think I deserve at least a bath- which was a clear invite to follow her back home -… you can draw one for us, meanwhile I write a note-.

This almost got him to giggle and she thought it was the nicest thing she had ever seen and she wanted to see more.

-Ehm… that is very… very tempting- he mumbled almost thinking about it, before picking her up full bridal style, getting a screech both for the sudden move and for the aching muscles in her body -… that note better be good-.

-Oh let me tell you how it starts… - and she smirked looking up at him -… “dearest Mr Langdon, you are a dick but yoa have an even bigger…”-.

She couldn’t finish the sentence because he had pushed her up his shoulder in a much less elegant way, before delivering a sound slap to her ass, getting a very loud pained moan from her, before uttering a “these brats never learn”.

Maybe she was glad shehad been fired for those stupid notes.

---

Gallant kept on shouting for his best friend on the phone, he had been already confused because his friend sounded stressed and pained on the phone.

Which he understood since she had to talk with her boss, but also that seemed a bit exaggerated but then he heard something, something which made him understand pretty clear that his best friend wasn’t in immediate danger.

“PL…Ease… Sir… Let ME… CUM!”.

Apparently, at least, somebody would get lucky tonight.

----

I hope you enjoyed it, lovelies!

This piece was so out of my comfort-zone, so please if you leave any kid of feedback I would be extremely grateful, because it would mean that you appreciate my creations and thye don’t go to waste!

Also tagging @so-langdon since she told me she was interested into reading this! (if you want to be tagged too, let me know through a message or an ask).

Love you, lovelies!

-Heco Hansen.

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somethingusefulfromflorida · 5 years

Text

Pixar Films

I dislike Disney as an entity; it is an evil corporate conglomerate that makes focus-grouped schlock to appeal to as wide an audience as possible at the detriment of story. That said, Pixar was once the greatest animation studio on the planet.

Keep in mind, these are movies for kids, so anything negative I say will almost certainly be rebutted with “you’re just old and you don’t like Disney because it’s popular and you’re a hipster and you’re not even the target audience anyway so shut up.” I’m just giving my two cents, whatever that’s worth.

I’m not gonna rate them on a number scale, I’ll just tell you how much I would or would not recommend watching them. Some are must-see-cinema, others are bland and skippable affairs that you should not feel obligated to watch just because it has the Pixar brand on it.

Let’s start from the very beginning (a very good place to start)

Toy Story (1995) Groundbreaking, the first feature length 3D animated movie, spectacular cast, great story, though a little wonky by today’s standards both in the visuals (though that’s just a product of the times) and in the characterization (Woody is kinda of a jerk in this one; he was worse during pre-production, so this is the tame version). Pixar started off on the right foot. Would Recommend

A Bug’s Life (1998) This has some flaws, but is still a really fun movie. Not as good as Toy Story, but infinitely better than Dreamworks’ knockoff Antz. Great ensemble, memorable characters and set pieces, really funny. Would Probably Recommend

Toy Story 2 (1999) An excellent sequel, they knocked it out of the park with this one. It’s surprisingly deep, exploring concepts like the inevitability of change; nothing lasts forever, you can’t keep kicking the can down the road forever. The journey is finite, but that doesn’t make it worthless. Would Definitely Recommend.

Monsters, Inc. (2001) To date, their best original movie, maybe even better than Toy Story 2. Everything about it is perfect; John Goodman and Billy Crystal have great chemistry, Steve Buscemi plays the perfect sleaze, Boo is just adorable, it’s an excellent movie. Would Definitely Recommend.

Finding Nemo (2003) This is a beautiful movie; they had to invent new animation techniques to make it look this good, new ways for light to bounce and diffuse through the fishy medium. Amazing story, absolutely heart wrenching at points, hilarious at others, without feeling tonally dissonant. Would Definitely Recommend.

The Incredibles (2004) Another home run, they’re just showing off at this point. This is a much deeper and arguably darker story than any of their previous films. It doesn’t pull any punches and explores adult concepts like mid-life crises, extramarital affairs, death (oh, so much death; red shirt mooks and civilians alike). This may be my favorite (definitely top 3; I’ll expand the list below). Would Definitely Recommend.

Cars (2006) A competent movie, though by Pixar standards it’s not quite up to snuff. Not bad, by any means, but this one is the most blatant cash grab of them all, just a commercial for hot wheels and die-cast toys. I have a soft spot for it because this is the one I’ve seen the most; my mom would turn on this DVD to keep my baby sisters occupied, so it was literally always playing in our house. That said, I’m not nostalgia blind; it has good parts, but it’s not great. Would Probably Not Recommend.

Ratatouille (2007) C’est Magnifique! Patton Oswalt does a fantastic job, I identify with Linguini on a spiritual level, the human characters are all perfectly demented and the rats are equally so. I love this moral; anyone can be successful, it’s about who you are not where you come from. Funny and relatable, an all around feel-good movie. Would Definitely Recommend.

WALL-E (2008) Top 3, hands down, this is a true work of art, a modern masterpiece. A film mostly devoid of dialogue, it expresses so much emotion from how the characters carry themselves and react physically to their surroundings. The body language, the color choices, the camera work (especially in the space dance sequence), just how RAW everything is, how grounded it feels, how fleshed out these little robots are.. I Cannot Recommend This Enough, Watch it Right Now. Now. Why Are You Still Reading This? Now! Go Watch it Then Come Back. Even if You’ve Already Seen it, Go Watch it Again.

Up (2009) Another near perfect installment under Pixar’s belt. They’ve really nailed the art of opening scenes; Carl and Ellie’s love story moves me to tears, it is so beautifully portrayed. Some of the characters can be a tad annoying and overly cutesy to sell merchandise, but the story never suffers from it. The villain actually feels like a threat, there are stakes, and the image of a house sitting by a waterfall and the story connotations thereof are indescribably bittersweet. Would Definitely Recommend

Toy Story 3 (2010) This is is sort of hit or miss. It’s a very well made movie, and an excellent CONCLUSION to the Toy Story franchise (Conclusion: noun, the end or finish of an event or process). I liked it, felt it really wrapped things up in a satisfactory way, but it’s not better than Toy Story 2 in my mind. I feel like this was a turning point for Pixar; after this, they were never quite the same, never really bounced back. May or May Not Recommend, I’m on the Fence

Cars 2 (2011) You don’t give the comedy relief their own movie. That’s storytelling 101; the comic relief bit-character can rarely stand on their own and meaningfully carry a story, though corporations are laughing all the way to the bank as I say this because these types of movies keep making boatloads of money even if they suck. Minions made bookoo bucks, the Pirates of the Caribbean series is still ongoing despite the loss of Bloom and Knightly (and bringing them back for the last one doesn’t really count because Depp is still the main character), Cars 2 is a corporate cash grab, and devoid of artistic merit; this is my first hard no. Would NOT Recommend.

Brave (2012) This is not a Pixar film, it is a Disney film that they decided to make under Pixar’s name instead because they knew Pixar had enough good will and positive connotations to get people into seats regardless of story. It’s not terrible, but it’s not great. That’s the story of modern Disney; not terrible, not great, just okay because that’s all it needs to be. People will watch it no matter what, so they put in the bare minimum amount of effort so nobody can say they suck at making movies again (because for the longest time in the early 2000s, they did suck; Dinosaurs, Home on the Range, Chicken Little). Would Not Recommend.

Monsters University (2013) Why did you do this, Pixar? Why did you take one of your best movies and do this specifically to it? Nobody asked for this, nobody wanted this. I can only applaud them for having integrity enough to NOT give people what they wanted; people wanted a sequel, and that would have bee terrible. You can’t follow up on Monsters, Inc, it had a perfect ending, it was hopeful and heart warming and definitive. A prequel is the only thing they could have made without messing up the ending of the original, so I’ll give them some credit for that. It’s not good. Would Not Recommend.

Inside Out (2015) Their best one since Toy Story 3. Not terrible, I actually liked a lot of things about this one. I like it when Pixar takes on more serious subject matter, and I thought they did a good job exploring how a kid would react to such a drastic lifestyle change. The cast was good, the animation was fun (inside Riley’s head; outside was generic and samey). Not bad Pixar, not bad at all. Would Probably Recommend.

The Good Dinosaur (2015) It doesn’t matter what i think because this movie still made hundreds of millions of dollars. Disney is losing no sleep over this. Would NOT Recommend.

Finding Dory (2016) Again with the continuations! This was better than Monsters University, but the original was still such a hard act to follow. It had potential, and I liked how it respectably handled mental illness in a way that was easy for kids to understand without dumbing it down and underplaying its significance in the lives of those who it effects. I think Marlin kinda regressed, having to relearn what he already learned in the first one. The hardest I laughed was during the climax, the truck chase scene, “It’s a Wonderful World,” just amazing. Would Probably Not Recommend

Cars 3 (2017) I hope Disney was happy with this end product. I hope the producers really enjoyed cashing their toy checks for this one. I thought it was worse than Cars 2, but I can see why some people might like it more. Either way, it’s worse than Cars 1, which wasn’t particularly great anyway. Would NOT Recommend.

Coco (2017) I’m on the fence with this one. It was beautifully made, and the songs made me cry, but it’s hard for me to look at this movie without judging it as a product made by a focus group of mostly white people. By itself it’s a good movie, but when you know how the Disney sausage is made it feels disingenuous and calculated. Might Recommend, But it Had Some Baggage

The Incredibles 2 (2018) I am Boo Boo the Fool, Pixar suckered me and I fell for it. I was legitimately enthusiastic for this one because the original is one of their best, and unlike Monsters, Inc it actually left room for a sequel. It had so much potential, and big shoes to fill, and it did so in the most generic Disney way it could. Like Brave it wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t great either. Middle of the road, some things were fun, others made little sense, it was “appealing” in that it literally appealed to as wide an audience as it could without alienating anyone by doing anything particularly risky. I liked Voyd, I liked how Helen became the main character, I liked the villain twist; I did not like how easy it was to make superheroes legal again. It felt like it was tacked on at the end, like he just says “and there we have it, they’re legal again, congratulations,” like he was announcing the winner of the Price is Right. Would Probably Not Recommend

Toy Story 4 (2019) I want to be clear that I made a point not to pay money to see many of the previous films on this list. If I thought they were going to suck, I waited until a friend bought it and saw it with them for free. This one, though, I was forced to pay for because my mom insisted on seeing it in theaters as a family. It wasn’t terrible. Wasn’t great. Wash, rinse, repeat. It was the same villain again; Stinky Pete, Lotso, Gabby-Gabby... I can’t wait for the fifth one where the villain is an old toy who is mad because they weren’t played with. Buzz was made much dumber for this one, and I felt they didn’t do enough with Forky. I was excited to see how they handled the existential aspects of the series; what makes a toy? How are toys sentient? Why are toys sentient? In the first movie Woody implied that there were rules that toys were honor bound to follow, so what is stopping Forky from blowing their cover on accident? None of these questions were answered. I liked Keanu Reeves, I didn’t like Key and Peele. Would Probably Not Recommend.

The mighty have fallen. It’s just sad.

”Onward” looks kinda dumb, like a kiddy version of the flop Will Smith movie “Bright.” I have no faith in this production company anymore, but I’m sure it will make hundreds of millions of dollars; the cast are fan favorites, including Disney’s favorite topical pet celebrities (because let’s be honest, Disney basically owns Tom Holland at this point. Whether they own Spider-Man or not, they own Tom Holland, he is theirs, his soul contractually belongs to them).

Speaking of souls, ”Soul” will probably go over well with critics, though I can’t help but notice that their main character of color is transformed into a non-human for most of the movie. Again. I’m also not a fan of this one-word naming convention Disney has fallen into in the last decade. “Brave” was originally titled “the Bear and the Bow,” but one-word titles seem to test well with kids. Hopefully this will pass, but I’m not holding my breath.

I’m swearing off Disney movies, firsthand. I might catch them second hand, through friends or other means, but I refuse to give this corporate conglomerate one more penny. They basically own Hollywood, so my money will eventually make my way into their pockets, I just want to put as much distance between them and myself as possible. No more Pixar, no more Star Wars, no more Marvel, no more Disney. I am one drop in the bucket, I will not be missed, and they will not be affected in the slightest by my absence, but I need to prove to myself that I have integrity enough not to keep funneling my hard earned cash into a trillion dollar snack company.

Disney movies are snacks, not meals. And I’m going on a diet.

Anyway, here’s my top three:

Monsters, Inc

The Incredibles

WALL-E

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